


Soft Come The Dragons

by AlElizabeth



Series: Weary Saints [2]
Category: Criminal Minds, Supernatural
Genre: Crimes & Criminals, Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Monsters, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 13:57:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 35,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4627863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlElizabeth/pseuds/AlElizabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchesters and the team from the BAU meet again and the agents learn that not all monsters are human.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Midnight Special

What would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark? It would be like sleep without dreams – Werner Herzog

Spencer Reid didn't look up when Derek Morgan walked through the break-room door.

"You want some coffee with that sugar, Kid?" his friend asked and the younger man shrugged.

Morgan's eyebrows furrowed in concern, "Hey, you okay?"

Reid glanced at his fellow agent, pressing the button on the coffee machine and the beverage flowed into the paper cup.

"I'm fine," the younger man answered but Morgan didn't look convinced.

Reid picked up his coffee cup and sipped at the contents for a moment, "I'm better than I was."

"Okay," Morgan raised his hands in surrender. Reid moved out of the way to give him a clear path to the coffee machine and made his way back to the bullpen.

It had been months since the team had traveled to the small town of Brentwood, Washington but it was clear that Morgan- if not the others as well- still worried about Reid.

The young doctor grimaced as he recalled the nightmares that had plagued him after returning to Quantico.

At first it had been hard to deal with the bad dreams; Reid felt isolated, alone, even though he knew Morgan was always willing to talk, but now the memories were more easily brushed aside, especially with the knowledge that Theodore Cunningham was currently serving a life sentence in the Washington State Penitentiary.

No, it wasn't night terrors that had Reid up late; he couldn't stop thinking about the Winchesters.

He knew it was ridiculous; if the Winchesters were smart they'd go underground, but Reid couldn't stop hoping he'd see them again. He had not had the chance to thank Sam for protecting him from Cunningham and although he'd spoken to Dean, it just wasn't the same. Dean hadn't been there. Dean hadn't seen what Sam had done to protect a complete stranger (and up until then, an enemy) from harm.

Hotch had told them not to mention the Winchesters at all and the team had followed his orders, each of the members believing them to be good men but Reid wishedhe could let someone know about the brothers.

It was not only Sam Winchester's fiercely protective streak but the mystery surrounding both brothers. The team had filled Reid in on their experience with Dean and it was clear that they were running from someone.

Reid was disappointed when Morgan had told him Dean Winchester had refused the team's help when they'd hauled him in to be questioned but he wasn't surprised. Marked as murderers, it was no wonder the Winchesters would refuse the assistance. For all Dean knew, it could be some sort of trick to get him and his brother locked up forever.

The young doctor raised his coffee cup in greeting to Emily Prentiss and JJ as he sat down at his desk. He had a mountain of paperwork to fill out and he was not looking forward to it; this was going to be one long night.

"You're staying here?" JJ asked and Reid nodded, "I have to catch up on all this."

The blonde agent nodded, "I think Emily put some of her files on your pile again."

Reid sighed and rolled his eyes, glancing at the dark-haired agent from across his desk.

"What? I thought you liked reading," she teased and Reid smirked, shaking his head.

Both women grabbed their jackets and pocketbooks, getting ready to head home. Reid bade them a goodnight and bent over the first file folder.

Morgan made his way back to the bullpen and sat with Reid for a while, keeping him company.

"Sure you don't want to call it a night?" the doctor's friend asked and eyed the stack of paperwork on Reid's desk.

"I've got it," Reid answered, "Really. I have to get this finished."

"Okay," Morgan stretched his arms over his head, "See you tomorrow."

"Night," Reid called distractedly as the other agent walked towards the elevators.

SPN

Sam Winchester picked listlessly at his salad as his brother munched happily away on a cheeseburger.

He was exhausted and really had no appetite; all he wanted to do was go back to the motel room and sleep.

Sam grimaced, that was nearly impossible with Lucifer keeping him up most nights.

The youngest Winchester made a point of not looking anywhere but at his slightly wilted salad and concentrated on his brother's voice as the talked through a mouthful of hamburger meat and bun.

"So it's all quiet on the Leviathan front," Dean said in a low voice so civilians wouldn't overhear him, "Wanna see if you can find us a case? I'm getting kind of antsy."

Sam lifted one shoulder in a noncommittal gesture.

"Hey, you okay there?" Dean asked, setting his burger down and staring at Sam with concern.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," the younger Winchester muttered and speared a piece of lettuce on his fork, "Just a little tired."

Sam stopped himself from hunching his shoulders as Lucifer laughed from somewhere off to his right.

Dean nodded, "Well, finish up Bugs Bunny. I want to get back to the motel and see what we can find."

Sam set his fork down and sat back, having eaten nothing.

Dean wolfed down the rest of his burger and fries and peered curiously at Sam's untouched salad.

"Yeah, doesn't look all that good anyway," Dean joked and Sam gave him a tight, false smile.

While Dean flagged down their waitress for the bill, Sam excused himself and went to the restroom.

Locking the door to one of the cubicles, Sam took a few deep breaths and squeezed his eyes shut.

He had to get control of himself. He had to. He knew what was real and what wasn't real… and Lucifer definitely wasn't real. He was just a hallucination, a figment of his imagination.

"Keep telling yourself that, Sam," the Devil's voice piped up from beyond the stall door, "If it makes you feel batter."

Sam heard the door to the bathroom open and footsteps as someone walked inside. Raking a hand through his hair, Sam decided to wait until the other occupant had left before exiting the stall. He didn't really want anyone to be there if Lucifer was still hanging around.

Sam listened to the guy as he went about his business, washed his hands and walked out, the door swishing shut behind him. Opening the stall door, Sam stepped out and stared at the man who was clearly dead.

He was short and round, his head balding on the top. He was wearing khaki shorts and socks with sandals. His light green golf shirt was spattered with crimson spots. His face rested in one of the urinals, blood leaking down the sides of the white porcelain.

Sam squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his thumb into the scar on his left palm.

Not real, not real, it's not real.

Sam opened his eyes and saw he was alone. There was no corpse. There was no Devil.

Without looking around, the youngest Winchester walked out of the bathroom hastily, knowing Dean would be wondering if he'd drowned or something by now.

W

Dean flopped down gratefully onto his bed, sighing.

Sam watched from the doorway as his brother made himself comfortable. The younger Winchester grabbed his laptop from his duffel bag and sat down at the motel's small table with it. Sam turned in his seat when he heard the television suddenly come alive.

"Dean, I could really use your help with this," he said and his brother glanced over at him, a bored expression on his face.

"I'm no good at research; you know that," Dean answered, "Besides, you get annoyed if I touch your computer. You've got a handle on this, right?"

"Yeah," Sam breathed and turned his attention to the laptop screen.

"Hey, what am I supposed to be looking f-" He began once he'd opened up the browser tab and looked over at Dean who had his eyes closed.

He had fallen asleep; Sam could hear the faintest snores underneath the drone of the television.

Sam sighed and forced himself to focus on the task at hand. It was going to be a very long night.

W

"He's so cute when he's asleep," Lucifer chuckled, standing over Dean's prone form.

Sam tore his gaze away from his laptop and snapped at the Devil, "Leave him alone!"

Lucifer glanced at Sam, a frown on his face and crossed his arms.

Sam's eyes widened when blood began to drip down the walls. Over the sound of the television he could hear screaming.

Sam closed his eyes and pressed his thumb down on the scar of his left palm.

It's not real, he thought desperately as his heart began to pound in fear, there's no blood and no one's screaming.

"You already know that's not going to work, Sam," Lucifer's voice cut through Sam's internal mantra.

The young man opened his eyes and jumped back; Lucifer's face only inches from his.

The Devil laughed and Sam pulled his chair closer to the table, hunching over his laptop as he stared at the screen.

SPN

Spencer Reid rubbed at his temples as he stared down at the open file on his desk. He hated paperwork. Hated it! Despite what his coworkers might have thought, he did not enjoy having to re-read all the facts about cases they had completed and make sure there were no mistakes.

Sure, Reid liked reading but scrutinizing the result of grisly murders over and over again was not his idea of a good time. He really just wanted to get the work finished as quickly as possible.

He peered into his coffee mug and sighed when he saw only the dark brown dredges left.

Poised to stand and head into the break-room, the doctor froze when he heard the muffled sounds of footsteps and a voice speaking from across the bullpen.

"…No Sir," a male voice said quietly, "We haven't seen or heard from them since…"

Reid sat back down as Agent Valente came into view, walking with purpose towards the elevators. The doctor didn't know anyone else was working late.

"I don't know!" Valente exclaimed and ran his free hand through his light brown hair, "We're trying to find them, Sir, but it appears they've gone underground…"

Who was Agent Valente talking to? Reid wondered. And who was he talking about?

The Agent stopped walking and appeared to be listening intently to the other person on the phone.

The man gulped and ran his hand through his hair again, "I understand, Sir. No, we won't lose them again… we'll find them…"

Valente closed his phone and put it into his jacket pocket. He loosened his tie and sighed, muttering something to himself too quiet for Reid to hear.

The doctor did not move until the other agent was in the elevator, on his way to the ground floor.

Deciding that it was just about another case, Reid tried to ignore what he'd heard.

But he couldn't. Agent Valente had seemed… nervous, even scared while talking on the phone and the doctor didn't even think the Director of the FBI could instill such emotion in people.

It's not your problem, Reid told himself. All you have to worry about is getting this paperwork finished.

The doctor yawned loudly and stretched. Standing up and wandering over to the break-room, Reid poured himself another cup of coffee and settled down for a few more hours of dotting his i's and crossing his t's before going home.


	2. The Grand Illusion

Sam glanced up from his computer when he heard Dean groan and sit up, blinking against the sunlight coming through the crack in the curtains covering the smeary motel window.

"What time is it?" Dean grumbled, glancing at the clock radio on the nightstand even as Sam answered him.

"Six," the younger man said and Dean groaned again, flopping back against the pillows.

"How long have you been up?" he asked, one arm draped across his eyes, trying to block out the sun.

"All night," Lucifer answered but of course Dean couldn't hear him.

"A while," Sam muttered, lying. He grabbed the paper cup of coffee beside his computer and took a deep swallow of the lukewarm liquid, grimacing at the bitter taste.

"Did you have any luck finding us a case?" Dean asked and sat up again, setting his feet on the spotty motel carpet.

"I did," Sam answered and pulled up the tab on the computer's search engine he'd looked over.

"Great, enlighten me," Dean smirked but Sam didn't return the gesture. He had spent all night staring at autopsy and crime-scene photos of the victims while trying to ignore Lucifer whispering in his ear.

Turning the computer towards his brother, Sam tried to recall the information he had read without having to actually look at the pictures again.

"The first victim appeared, uh… two weeks ago," Sam said, "Her name was…"

"Crystal," Lucifer provided.

"Crystal…" Sam repeated, "Uh…"

"Philips," Dean muttered, "Yeah, thanks Sam, I can read."

Sam sighed and drank another mouthful of coffee.

"She was found outside a local bar," Sam explained, "Missing her liver and… skin."

Dean nodded and apparently scrolled down to the autopsy pictures, grimacing in disgust.

"Oh, that's not right," he grumbled, "What else?"

"The second victim was Richard Allen," Sam said, avoiding making eye-contact with Lucifer, "He was found outside of his office building two days after Crystal was discovered. He was also skinned and had his kidneys removed."

Sam closed his eyes for a moment. He wished he could distance himself from this case as he usually would but with each picture revealing the flayed corpse of a victim, Lucifer was there, reminding him of his similar fate he'd experienced while he'd been trapped in the Cage with the fallen angel and Michael.

"Sam?" Dean's voice startled him, "You alright?"

He nodded, "Uh… Alison Bower was found last week. And Patti McDuffy was found on Monday."

Dean frowned, "Hm… do you have any idea about what this is?"

Sam shook his head, "Oh, there was something else… It's not in the police or medical reports or anything but a couple of months ago a farmer found most of his sheep mutilated."

"Sheep?" Dean scowled, "What the Hell?"

Sam shrugged; he was just as stumped as his brother on this one.

"Well," Dean said, standing and stretching, "I don't know about you but I can't work a case on an empty stomach."

Sam closed his laptop- gratefully- and stood as well.

"Why don't I get us something and you pack?" Sam offered. Dean glanced down at the empty coffee cup beside the computer- evidence that Sam had already been to the diner across the street- and shrugged.

"Sure, whatever you want."

Sam grabbed his jacket and left the motel room, closing the door quietly after himself. Shoving his hands into his pockets, Sam walked with his head down, his feet guiding him back to the diner.

Although it was warm outside- and certain to become even more so as the day progressed- Sam shivered, pulling the collar of his jacket up. He received some odd looks from the few people he passed, locals on their way to work, wearing sandals and dresses or business suits but he ignored them.

Lucifer walked beside Sam, keeping stride with him, humming cheerfully.

Sam stared at the pavement in front of him, trying to ignore his unwanted company. Instead, he tried to focus on the case. He didn't know of any supernatural creature that killed its victims in the way he had seen in the coroner's reports. No monster he could think of skinned its victims. And the sheep, well, that was just strange.

Sam knew that Chupacabra's often killed livestock and fed on their blood, but certainly never removed the animals' skins.

Maybe this wasn't their sort of case after all; maybe some human psycho had murdered those people. Sam couldn't help but be reminded of the fictional serial killer, Buffalo Bill from the movie The Silence of the Lambs.

Reaching the diner, Sam slipped inside and stood in line while he waited to be served.

The girl at the counter gave him a curious look when she saw him for the second time that morning but only asked what he wanted.

Sam ordered Dean's breakfast and a coffee for himself.

"Another coffee, Sam?" Lucifer chimed in, leaning against the counter beside him, "That'll be, what, your third this morning?"

The youngest Winchester ignored the observation and took the paper cup when the girl handed it to him and moved to the side to wait for the rest of his order.

"You know, all that caffeine is not good for you," the Devil continued as Sam took a sip of the hot liquid.

Sam didn't care if it was bad for him, he needed it. If he didn't drink it, he'd fall asleep and if that happened he'd have nightmares or Lucifer would wake him, irritated at being ignored for longer than five minutes.

"Here's your order, sir," the girl held out the large paper bag and Sam grabbed it, muttering his thanks.

Sam dashed across the street, ignoring the blaring of a car horn as a driver swerved to avoid hitting him and opened the motel room door.

"Where's my coffee?" Dean asked, taking the bag from Sam and frowning after looking inside.

Damn, Sam had forgotten to get his brother coffee as well.

"Why not give Dean yours?" Lucifer suggested.

"What've you got? Not one of those frou-frou drinks?" Dean asked, as if he had heard the Devil's comment.

"It's black," Sam muttered and held it out to Dean.

"Thanks Sammy," he took the offered beverage, smiling, "I owe you one."

Sam shrugged, "You ready to go?"

"Car's all packed and everything," Dean grinned and Sam tried to smile back but the expression fell flat.

Dean, though, didn't seem to notice, too interested in his food. Sam followed him out to the car and waited for Dean to get himself settled in the driver's seat of their most recently stolen car, which was consisted of him arranging his bacon and eggs on his toast to make a sandwich he could hold and eat while he drove.

Once Dean had pulled out of the parking lot and turned the radio on to eardrum-shattering level- which Sam was actually grateful for; Lucifer's voice wasn't as loud as the Metallica or Iron Maiden or Motorhead blasting from the speakers- Sam leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes, not really believing he'd fall asleep but simply resting his eyes.

SPN

Rossi grimaced at the gory crime scene photos on the wall as Penelope explained the case.

"This is twenty-two year old Crystal Philips," Garcia said, the victim's body juxtaposed with a copy of a picture of her on the beach in a flattering pink bikini.

"She was found two weeks ago in front of the local bar where she worked," the technical analyst continued, "by another employee."

"The coroner's report indicates that her throat was cut and she had her skin and liver removed."

A new picture appeared on screen, this one of a man in his late fifties.

"Richard Allen, fifty-seven was also found without his skin and his kidneys were also gone."

"Liver… Kidneys," Emily Prentiss spoke up, "Are we thinking the unsub is cannibalizing his victims?"

"It's a little early to tell-" Aaron Hotchner began but was interrupted by Spencer Reid.

"Jack the Ripper took Catherine Eddowes' left kidney and reportedly fried and ate it. He sent a letter to George Lusk, leader of the Whitechapel Vigilance Committee describing it. Albert Fish also ate his victims; he-"

"Thank you, Spencer," Aaron held up his hand to stop the doctor before he got too carried away. Reid cleared his throat and Morgan chuckled slightly before turning serious again after Hotch glared at him.

"Continue," Aaron indicated to Garcia and the techie started again.

"The latest victims are Alison Bower and Patricia McDuffy," she said, showing them pictures of skinned bodies.

Rossi frowned, "If Phillips was found two weeks ago, Allen two days later, Bower was last week and McDuffy only on Monday, than we have a big problem. Our unsub is accelerating with no particular pattern."

"Right," Hotch said, "I want everyone on the jet in thirty minutes."

Rossi stood and stretched. This case was shaping up to be a bad one- not that there were any good cases- and he only hoped they could get their unsub before anyone else died. Sighing, the veteran Fed glanced at his teammates, their faces saddened though determined.

The battle is never over, Rossi thought to himself, there always monsters to slay.

SPN

Dean frowned at his brother sitting in the seat across from him. Sam was hunched over the Formica table, hands wrapped around what had to be his tenth coffee of the day. They had stopped for lunch ten minutes ago and while Dean had eagerly ordered a cheeseburger and a Coke, Sam had only wanted coffee. He hadn't even asked for one of his stupid salads!

Dean reached out and slid the mug out from his between his brother's fingers, moving it over to his side of the table.

"Hey!" Sam exclaimed irritably, "Give that back."

Dean didn't even blink as Sam reached out for the mug, "Why don't you try eating something first?"

Sam hesitated for a moment, hand still outstretched, before muttering, "I'm fine. I'm not hungry."

Dean wanted to call bullshit but was interrupted by the waitress who set his burger in front of him. She turned to Sam, notepad ready.

"Sure I can't get you anything?"

Dean stared at his brother from around the waitress' arm, his food momentarily forgotten.

Sam, avoiding Dean's glare, shook his head, "No thank you."

Once they were alone, Dean leaned over the table and hissed at his sibling, "Damn it, Sam! I don't care if you order the fucking Soup of the Day but you have got to eat something."

Dean didn't like this, not at all. He worried when Sam refused to eat. A guy Sam's size couldn't afford to skip meals.

Sighing at his brother's expression- it looked as though Sam couldn't gather up enough energy to even scowl at him- he toned it down a notch.

"Is it… you-know-what?" Dean asked quietly.

He knew what it was like; he had been there. The first few weeks after being rescued from Hell, certain foods, especially meat, curdled Dean's stomach. Even now, he sometimes hated the smell of frying bacon.

Ever since Cas had destroyed Death's wall- the only thing keeping Sam from his memories of the Cage- Dean had noticed a marked change in Sam's behaviour. Dean tried to help Sam, he really did, but it was difficult when his brother refused to talk about it and keep everything bottled up. Sure, Dean knew he hadn't been in a chatty mood about his time in Hell but he also didn't have the Devil as an imaginary friend.

Sam looked away, out the window beside the booth and his silence told Dean the truth.

"Sammy, man, you need to eat," he told his brother quietly, "You'll get sick if you don't."

"I know, Dean," Sam whispered, his voice soft and watery.

Dean shoved his plate closer to the middle of the table, hoping to entice Sam to eat a few of his French fries, maybe. The eldest Winchester started in on his cheeseburger, keeping an eye on his brother as he ate.

Sam raised one hand to his brow and massaged his forehead as if it pained him. He closed his eyes for a moment before they snapped open and he glanced at something unseen off to his right from the corner of his eye.

By the time Dean had finished his cheeseburger and half of his fries, he pushed the plate over so that it was directly in front of Sam.

"I'm full," he claimed, "You have the rest."

Sam stared down at the fries for a long moment and Dean found himself holding his breath; if Sam still didn't eat…

He almost smiled when Sam speared a fry with his fork and ate it, avoiding the ketchup Dean had squirted onto the plate.

Their waitress came by; eyeing Sam slowly eating the remaining fries, before turning to Dean.

"Anything else?" she asked, one hand on her hip.

"Can I get a slice of apple pie?" Dean asked, his mouth watering at the very thought of the sweet dessert.

"Coming right up," the waitress and looked over at Sam, "You want something else, Sugar?"

Sam glanced up quickly and shook his head silently. The waitress nodded and left.

Dean's brother pushed the plate into the centre of the table once all the fries were eaten and Dean couldn't help but smile.

"Feel better?"

Sam shrugged, "Yeah."

Dean rewarded Sam with his coffee, the beverage lukewarm now but Sam took it, almost guzzling it down.

Sam fidgeted the entire time Dean was eating his pie. Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat and peeked nervously to his right, as though he didn't think Dean would notice.

That's it, Dean thought, next time Sam has coffee I'm making sure its decaf.

"Sam," Dean called his brother's name to try and distract him from whatever it was that was bothering him so. The younger sibling turned his tired green eyes on Dean who frowned.

It's okay, Sammy; Dean said silently, trying to convey the message with his own eyes. He hoped Sam would be able to read it.

Dean sat back in his seat and pulled some bills from his wallet, setting them on the table beneath his empty glass.

Sam followed Dean out the door of the diner and sank into the passenger seat, closing his eyes even though they both knew he'd get no sleep.

Dean put the key in their stolen car's ignition and turned on the radio loudly- maybe the sound would drown out Lucifer for a little while- and smiled when Metallica's 'Hero of the Day' began to play.

SPN

Miller's Falls, Pennsylvania was an up and coming community. It had begun as a small group of farms in the early 20th century but had grown since then to include a small suburban circle. Although farming was the city's major form of employment, it also had a large industrial sector. Despite its smaller size, the city was no stranger to the woes that plagued major metropolises.

The team was met by the local police chief, Leon Gabraldo, and shown to the station.

"This is a nice place," the chief explained as he showed the team to a conference room they could use to set up, "Sure we're getting bigger but nothing like this has ever happened. We're mostly farmers and factory workers here. Almost half of the people living here are Amish!"

Hotchner nodded sympathetically, "We understand your concern; that is why we were called in, to put a stop to this."

Chief Gabraldo stopped in the conference room doorway, "Look, we just don't want to be given a bad name by whomever is killing those people."

JJ smiled, she could help with that part of the process, keep the media away.

"You always think that this sort of thing happens in the big cities, New York, Chicago, not in places like Miller's Falls," Gabraldo concluded and opened the door for the team.

"Actually, statistically speaking its just as likely for violent crimes to occur in-" Reid began but Hotch shot him a look that said 'not now' and the doctor stopped.

Once Chief Gabraldo had left the room, Hotch turned to his team, his expression serious.

"We do not have long before this unsub finds another victim," he told them, somewhat unnecessarily, "Which only makes our jobs a lot more difficult."

The agents nodded, quite familiar with this scenario.

"Dave," the Unit Chief began, "I want you to interview the witness who found the first victim."

Rossi nodded, glancing at the younger man for only a moment. Normally Aaron liked to partner them off but it seemed with the number of witnesses who needed to be interviewed, the team was going to be stretched thin this time

Morgan and Prentiss were assigned the task of interviewing the witnesses to the discovery of Richard Allen and Alison Bower's bodies. Reid and JJ would remain in the station and attempt to figure out a pattern to the murders. Hotch himself would look into Patricia McDuffy's death.

Sighing, Aaron climbed into the large black department issued SUV and drove to the address where the latest victim's body had been found.

SPN

Dean sprawled out on the motel bed as though it belonged in a five-star resort and sighed.

"Let's get some rest and start asking questions tomorrow," he muttered to his brother, "I'm exhausted."

Sam sat down on his bed, glancing at Dean. He wished he could just lie back, close his eyes and fall asleep.

He couldn't though; Lucifer wouldn't let him.

Instead, Sam dug his laptop out of his duffel bag and settled in for a long night of Solitaire.

W

"Sam," Lucifer said, peering over the young man's shoulder, "You're going to lose."

"What?" Sam asked, peering up at the Devil tiredly.

"The game," the fallen angel elaborated, "Three more moves and it's all over for you."

Sam sighed and closed the game, staring at the background instead.

Lucifer walked across the room, sat on the end of Dean's bed and turned on the television, blaring the volume.

Sam groaned and grabbed his head with both hands, gritting his teeth together. The Devil just looked over at Sam and grinned.

"No TV, Sam?" he asked, "We could do something else, if you want."

The young man looked up to find the fallen angel standing right in front of him and he couldn't help but cringe away.

The Devil chuckled and Sam let out a whimper before he could stop himself.

SPN

Dean thought someone was being murdered.

Before he'd even opened his eyes, all he could think was that someone was dying.

No, it had to be the television. Dean tried to remember if he'd left it on before he'd gone to bed. Maybe Sam was watching something.

Sam.

The cries continued, thin and full of pain, unending.

The voice didn't seem as though it was coming from TV speakers though; it sounded far too close for that.

Dean blinked his eyes and saw that the television screen was blank. Silent.

That meant…

"Sam!" Dean leaped out of bed and rushed to his brother's side.

"Sammy! Sammy?"

The younger Winchester was on the motel room floor, writhing in apparent agony, though there was not a mark on him.

"Shit," Dean swore as he reached out and set a hand on his sibling's shoulder, "Shit, shit, shit."

Sam didn't react to his touch, he just continued screaming. If Dean couldn't quiet him, someone was bound to call the police; if they hadn't already.

"Shh," Dean murmured urgently, "C'mon, Sammy, snap out of it."

Grabbing his brother tightly, Dean heaved Sam's twitching body up and into a hug, leaning his sibling against his chest.

"Calm down," Dean tried to soothe, arms locked around his struggling brother, "It's alright, you're safe."

Sam's cries began to quiet, turning to whimpers. He continued to thrash though, as though he were having a seizure.

"Easy Sammy, easy," Dean kept talking, reassuring his brother even though he wasn't certain his sibling could hear him.

The older brother brushed the younger's sweaty bangs from his brow and began rocking him gently, hoping the motion would soothe him.

In Dean's hold, Sam went rigid for a long moment before going completely limp, exhausted.

"Sammy? Hey, you okay?" Dean asked concernedly; he grabbed his brother's hand- the one with the scar on the palm- and squeezed lightly.

His brother's green eyes opened to slits, "D'n?"

"Hi," Dean responded and instead of trying to wiggle out of his hold, Sam leaned into him, head against his chest.

"M'tired," Sam muttered and closed his eyes.

"I know, Sammy," Dean whispered. He should probably go see the manager, explain that there wasn't an axe-murderer in their room but he didn't want to leave his brother.

Dean closed his eyes as well, wishing Sam would reach out to him like this more often. He wasn't stupid; Dean knew that Lucifer was still there, rattling around in Sam's mind like a loose marble but his sibling refused to let him in on it. Dean felt bad; he was sure Sam thought he had to be strong for him. Dean had held back his true feelings, keeping a mask of normalcy in place when he'd returned from Hell. Dean was sure Sam was doing the exact same thing. He didn't have to though, Sam's Hell had been worse than Dean's, and he had a right to break down every now and then. It hurt Dean that Sam pretended that nothing was wrong, that hurt the older brother the most. When they both knew otherwise.

A sharp rapping at the door brought Dean out of his thoughts. Sam jerked in his arms, eyes wide and fearful.

"You in there! Come out or I'll call the cops!"

"Sorry Sammy," Dean apologized and extracted himself from his brother. Sam made no move to get up. He curled up on the floor, face pressed against the dingy motel carpet.

Dean glanced worriedly at his sibling before going to the door and opening it up only as far as the chain-lock would allow.

"Yeah?" he asked irritably.

The manager, a short, paunchy man with a balding head, peered angrily up at Dean.

"The fuck is going on in there? I had people from almost a half-dozen rooms complain about someone screaming bloody murder."

Dean wiped a hand over his face, his fatigue quite real, "Sorry, it's my brother, he has... epilepsy… he's fine now."

The manager narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Dean, "If it happens again you're out. You hear me?"

"Yeah, yeah," Dean muttered, closing the door, "Asshole."

Returning to his brother's side, Dean crouched down and once again brushed Sam's bangs away from his forehead.

"Sammy?" he said quietly and his sibling's eyes opened at once.

"Did I wake you?"

"No," Sam breathed and sat up shakily.

Dean reached out and gripped Sam under the arm, guiding him towards his unused bed. He sat Sam down on the mattress and then glanced at the small table in the room where his brother's open laptop sat, the screensaver in use.

Turning his attention to Sam, Dean fluffed the motel pillow and patted it, "Why don't you lie down for a little bit?"

"Hmmm," Sam muttered and fell back, his head missing the pillow but he didn't seem to care.

"Sam?" Dean asked, "Sammy?"

His brother didn't answer, his eyes closed.

Dean sighed and patted his brother's chest.

"Good night, Sam."

SPN

Rossi nodded in sympathy as Harris Redding spoke. The man worked as a bartender at the same bar the late Crystal Phillips had been employed at. The man was well over six feet tall and all muscle, his black curly hair cut short but the grim set of his lips and the shine in his brown eyes belied the fact that he was shaken from his discovery.

"I didn't know what it- she- was at first," he admitted, "It was dark and I just… I don't know what I thought."

"That's all right," Rossi told the distraught man, "Can you remember anything about the scene other than Miss Phillips' body?"

The witness furrowed his brow, deep in thought, and Rossi glanced at his cell phone, wishing Aaron or Reid would call and tell him some good news.

"I'm sorry, agent," he said apologetically, "I can't think of anything that might be useful."

Rossi nodded and stood, "That's alright. Here's my card in case anything comes to you."

Harris' lips thinned, "Wish I could have been more helpful. Crystal, she was going to college, gonna be a nurse."

Again, Rossi nodded.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Redding," he concluded as the man saw him to the door of his apartment.

"Catch the sumbitch who did this to her, will you?" Harris asked, his expression almost bloodthirsty.

Rossi promised that that unsub would not escape justice.

W

"I don't see anything, Spence," JJ sighed and rubbed her thumbs against the skin just above her eyebrows, "The victims were all different ages, different genders, didn't work at the same places…"

Reid looked up at the blonde-haired agent and narrowed his eyes.

"There has to be a connection," he insisted, peering down at the city map spread out before him, "There always is."

SPN

The next morning Sam acted as if nothing had happened. And that pissed Dean off.

Was his brother just going to pretend that he hadn't been freaking out? That everything was fine?

"I'm going to get some breakfast," Sam announced as he exited the bathroom, fully clothed, "Any special requests?"

"Yeah, Sam," Dean folded his arms, almost glaring at him, "How about you tell me what happened last night, hm?"

Sam glanced down quickly before looking up, "I, uh, it was a nightmare, Dean. I'm fine. Really."

Dean didn't back down, "That's bullshit."

"Dean-" Sam began but the older Winchester stepped forward, reaching out to grab his shoulders.

"You haven't been sleeping, Sam, and you expect me to believe you were having a nightmare?" Dean snarled and he felt bad when he saw Sam cringe.

"Sam, man, I know you're seeing things or whatever," Dean tried again, "But… what the fuck was that? It sounded like you were dying."

His brother looked down again and Dean heard him swallow audibly.

Glancing up, Sam's expression was hardened, closed, "You want bacon or sausage?"

Dean released Sam's shoulders as though he'd been shocked, stepping out of the way, "Great, ignore me. That's fine. Go on then, get us breakfast."

He didn't say anything else as Sam left the motel room.

Once his brother was gone, Dean wiped a hand across his mouth.

"Fuck!" he swore and kicked the dresser.

Sam had always been able to tell him anything, everything and now he was shutting Dean out. The older Winchester didn't know what to do. He couldn't force Sam to talk but he couldn't bear to watch him suffer in silence either.

Running a hand through his short-cropped hair, Dean sighed and grabbed his duffel bag, deciding he might as well shower while Sam was gone.

"What happened to stone number one, Sammy?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from a Styxx song.


	3. Bad Seed

Emily Prentiss blinked sleepily; confused for a moment before realizing it was her ringing cell phone that had woken her. JJ sat up in the other bed, looking equally bewildered.

The dark-haired agent grabbed her phone from where it sat on the nightstand between the beds and greeted the caller.

"Agent Prentiss," she muttered and brushed her hair out of her face with one hand.

"Another victim's been found," Hotchner's voice informed her, the Unit Chief sounding as though he had been awake for hours, "It's a child."

"Shit!" Prentiss swore out loud and JJ gave her a startled look.

"Can you and JJ meet us at the station?" Hotch asked, ignoring her outburst.

"Yeah," Prentiss assured him, standing up and glancing around the dark room for some clothes, "We'll be right there."

Closing her phone, Emily turned on the lamp that sat on the nightstand and grabbed some clothes, moving as quickly as possible.

"Was that Hotch?" JJ asked, following her friend's lead and pulling a light blue blouse and navy dress pants from her suitcase.

"Who else?" Prentiss muttered as she fastened the buttons on her own chocolate brown blouse.

"Someone else died," JJ said, not asking a question. Prentiss nodded and bit her lip, unsure if she should tell JJ that the victim had been a child.

"Does Hotch know who it was?" the blonde agent asked instead and Prentiss let out a sigh of relief. She knew that they dealt with cases involving kids all the time but she also saw the look on JJ's face whenever they did, as though the woman was putting her son in the place of every tiny victim they came across.

"No," Prentiss answered distractedly, "He said he wanted us there in person."

W

"This is nine-year old Owen Mulroney," Hotch gestured to the picture of a little boy with light brown hair smiling at the cameraman taking his school photo.

"He was found on the baseball field of J. Edgar Hoover Public School," the Unit Chief continued, his voice hard.

"Who discovered him?" Rossi asked soberly.

"A group of eighth graders who also went to the school," Hotch answered, "Apparently they were there to smoke cigarettes."

"Why the change in victims?" Morgan asked, his brown eyes dark. It was bad enough when adults were murdered but with children… that crossed a line.

"Maybe the others were practice?" Reid offered, not sounding very sure of himself.

"But adults are a lot stronger than a fourth-grader," Morgan argued, "It wouldn't make sense for the unsub to change his victimology now."

The team grew quiet, everyone uncertain of what to say. There seemed to be no connection to the victims and the coroner had yet to find any physical evidence of the murderer. There had been no skin, no hair, no saliva or semen to examine on any of the victims.

Hotch sighed, "I want us all to interview the witnesses again, see if there is something we've missed."

The team nodded solemnly. This was turning out to be a very difficult case indeed.

SPN

Sam walked slowly down the sidewalk, dragging his feet while Lucifer strolled along beside him, whistling 'Tiptoe Through the Tulips' cheerfully.

"Why the long face?" the Devil asked and chuckled. Sam didn't speak. He shivered despite the fact that he was wearing a sweatshirt and shoved his hands into his jeans' pockets.

"Don't tell me your not feeling nostalgic?" Lucifer asked mockingly.

Nostalgic wasn't exactly the word Sam would have used for what had happened the night before. Terrorized, was a more apt description, insane, was even better.

Sighing audibly, Sam reached up and brushed his bangs off his forehead.

He hated it when Dean was angry with him. He knew Dean as only trying to help but… well, Sam wasn't ready to talk. Not about the Cage.

"Why won't you tell Dean about all the fun we had, Sammy?" Lucifer asked, smirking.

The young man didn't reply.

"I'm sure he'd find it… enlightening," the Devil chuckled and reached a hand out towards Sam's face.

The hunter backed away, hitting another pedestrian.

"Hey! Watch where the hell you're walking!" the man snapped and glared at Sam as he continued on down the sidewalk.

Sam stopped where he was, breathing deeply to get himself under control. He clenched his hands into fists, the fingernails of his left hand digging into the scar on his palm.

Just go and get breakfast, Sam told himself, before Dean starts panicking.

Alone for the moment- Lucifer had vanished- Sam continued on his way to the diner, trying to remember if Dean had said if he wanted bacon or sausage.

W

Sam's shoulders slumped when he opened the door to the diner and saw Lucifer sitting at the counter, drinking a cup of coffee and reading as newspaper as though he belonged there.

Ignoring the Devil, Sam stepped up to the cashier and placed his order.

The diner was filled with happy, chatting people enjoying themselves and Sam tried to pretend, if only for a moment, that he was one of them.

The daydream ended swiftly though, as Sam caught a whiff of sulfur and roasting flesh, the scents making his throat tighten and his eyes water.

Sam opened his mouth to try and breathe through the miasma but it only made matters worse. His stomach suddenly lurched and Sam was certain he was going to be sick.

The girl who had taken his order returned, holding a large paper bag and she stared at him, alarmed for a moment before setting her burden down on the counter.

"Are you alright?"

Sam closed his mouth, took a deep breath and nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he insisted, sure that he looked as though he was going to pass out.

"Here's your food," the girl shoved the bag at him and stepped away, incase he did throw up.

Sam grabbed the bag and turned around, pausing when he caught sight of the headline on the newspaper Lucifer was still reading.

Barreling towards the door, Sam didn't even stop as he grabbed a new paper from the stack by the exit, nearly flying down the sidewalk in his haste.

SPN

Dean looked up, startled, when Sam stumbled inside, panting and gasping for air.

"Sam!" Dean instantly stood up, going to his brother, his earlier anger completely forgotten in his concern.

Sam waved him away, "I'm fine… I just… here…"

Dean grabbed the newspaper his brother shoved at him and opened it, frowning.

"F-front page…" Sam stammered, bending over to place his hands on his knees.

"Sammy," Dean dropped the paper onto the table instead, "Are you alright?"

Sam shouldn't be so out of breath like this, even if he had run all the way from the diner.

"Sit down," Dean took hold of Sam's arm and guided him to the bed closest to the door, forcing him to take a seat on the edge of the mattress.

"What did you do? Run a marathon?" Dean asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Sam shook his head and brushed his damp bangs away from his eyes, "Only from the restaurant."

Dean didn't laugh or even smile. Instead he took note of the dark circles around Sam's eyes and his unusually pale complexion.

"Why don't you lie down?" Dean offered and Sam shook his head, "I'm alright."

"What was it you wanted me to see in the paper anyway?" Dean asked instead of trying to force his brother to rest.

"There's been another murder," Sam answered, recovering quickly, "The same thing that… killed those other people."

Dean walked over and grabbed the newspaper, reading the headline article quickly.

"How do you know it's the same guy?" he asked, "It doesn't say anything about the kid getting skinned or missing a kidney or whatever."

Sam glanced down at his lap, "I… just know… it's the same guy."

Dean frowned. There was something Sam wasn't telling him.

"He's from the same city as those other people," Sam told him, "So it fits."

"Okay," Dean rubbed a hand over his chin, "Let's eat and get on the road. We should be able to make it to Miller's Falls in a couple of hours."

Dean snagged the paper bag and began laying out the food.

"You go ahead," Sam said from the bed, having made no attempt to move, "I'm not really hungry."

Dean shook his head, "I may not be able to make you sleep but I sure as hell can make you eat something. Get over here."

Sam didn't move for a moment. Dean gave his brother his best impersonation of the 'John' stare; the look that their father would give them when he wanted his sons to obey instantly. Sighing, Sam stood and made his way over to the table.

Realizing that Sam had only ordered one meal- of course he would, he wasn't planning on eating- Dean put his toast onto one of the napkins that came in the bag and shoved it towards his brother.

"We aren't leaving until you eat that," Dean said with finality and he began with his own breakfast.

SPN

Morgan watched sadly as the Mulroneys left the interview room, teary-eyed and staggering under the weight of their grief.

The agent hadn't been able to get any useful information from Owen's parents. He was a good kid; loved baseball and Pokemon cards. He got average grades in school and was a member of the local Cub Scout chapter.

Sometimes, after classes and on the weekends, Owen would go to J. Edgar's baseball diamond to practice. That was what he had been doing when he'd been killed.

Morgan sighed and hit the speed dial number for Garcia.

"Please tell me you have something, Baby Girl," he said, praying for some good news.

"I'm sorry," Penelope answered, sounding not at all like her lively, bubbly self, "Owen Mulroney has no connection to the other victims and I mean none. Chrystal Philips didn't even graduate from J. Edgar Hoover."

"Okay, thanks for looking," Morgan replied.

"Anytime, my love," Garcia answered but her heart clearly wasn't in it.

Closing his phone, Morgan closed his eyes. They all couldn't be victims of opportunity. There was always a connection, no matter how tenuous.

Keep digging, Morgan though, keep searching. You'll find something. Don't give up. You can't give up. Not when people are dying.

Standing, the agent stretched his sore back and walked from the interview room, his gaze seeking out his friend, Dr. Reid.

SPN

"I don't understand why the FBI is interested in my sheep," Ezra Gaines commented, blocking the doorway of his farmhouse from the Winchesters, "The local sheriff didn't even look into it. Said it was probably a coyote."

Dean cleared his throat, "Mr. Gaines, between you and me, we both know that a coyote couldn't skin your entire flock of sheep without you hearing something. Am I right?"

The farmer looked suspiciously at the Winchesters for a moment before nodded, "No, I've never seen a coyote do anything like that."

Dean smiled politely, "If you don't mind, sir, we'd like to know exactly what happened that night."

Mr. Gaines stepped aside and Dean and Sam walked into the house. It was simple though cozy, oddly homey for its lack of modern comforts such as a television.

The Winchesters were led to the kitchen and offered a seat at the table.

Ezra Gaines sat down across from the two brothers and sighed sadly.

"Those sheep, they weren't just my livelihood, you understand. They were family… my children. Martha, she can't conceive. So we raised those sheep from lambs, sold their wool."

Dean nodded, tilting his head down as he made notes.

"What happened the night they were killed?" Dean asked as he wrote.

"It was warm out, so I left them outside. They like to sleep outdoors better anyways," Ezra cleared his throat and Dean turned to see a woman a little older than middle age standing in the doorway. She wore a modest blue dress that covered her from wrist to neck, with a hemline that touched the floor. Her hair, done up in a tight bun, was covered with a white kerchief.

"Would you gentlemen like some tea?" she asked quietly and Dean nodded, "Yes ma'am."

Returning his attention to Martha's husband, Dean gestured for Ezra to continue.

"I didn't hear anything. Nothing at all. I found them the next morning when I came out to milk the cows," Ezra explained.

"The cows were in the barn?" Dean asked and the farmer nodded.

"And they were alright?" he asked and again, Ezra nodded.

"Only the sheep," the farmer said somewhat faintly.

"Can you describe what you saw?" Dean asked and thanked Martha quietly as she set a cup of tea in front of him.

"The blood," the farmer answered, "That's what I saw first. The grass was red with it, as though someone had painted it."

"Then… the sheep… they were lying there… without their skins. There were flies too," Ezra continued, clearly upset.

Dean lifted his head and glanced at his brother from the corner of his eye.

"Ah, Agent Reznor, do you have any questions for Mr. Gaines?" Dean asked his brother.

It took a moment for Sam to respond, "What? No, no, I don't think so."

Dean suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and turned his attention back to Ezra, "Did you try and find what had killed the sheep?"

"Of course!" the farmer exclaimed, "Me and Lucas Hans and Adam Kronin searched for hours but didn't find anything. Not even a footprint."

"Have any of the other farmers been attacked like this?" Dean asked and Ezra shook his head, "No, just me."

Slipping his notebook into his jacket pocket, Dean drained his teacup out of politeness and stood, "Do you mind if Agent Reznor and I take a look around the field?"

Ezra stood as well, "If you really want to. You won't find anything though."

The farmer saw them to the door and watched as the brothers picked their way to the empty field, climbing over the wooden fence with ease.

W

"What the hell, Sam?!" Dean grumbled angrily at his brother as they searched the grass, "You could have said something back there."

"Sorry," Sam muttered, his voice quiet.

"I might as well have been there alone!" Dean continued irritably.

Sam didn't reply, he simply kept his head down, his gaze on the ground beneath his feet.

W

Ezra Gaines was right. The Winchesters found nothing.

"I guess we have to go interview the witnesses now," Dean said resignedly as he slid into the driver's seat of their stolen car.

"That is, if you'll actually talk next time," he continued and saw Sam flinch slightly.

Dean felt bad but they had a job to do and if Sam was going to pretend that he wasn't on a downward spiral towards the Looney Bin than Dean could pretend too.

Sighing, the eldest Winchester wished Bobby was still with them- he'd know what was going on- but since he wasn't, prepared himself to talk to the people who had found the remains of the victims of… whatever this son of a bitch was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from a Metallica song.


	4. Force Ten

"Mr. Redding? I'm Agent Rhoads and this is Agent Reznor, we'd like to talk to you about Chrystal Philips if you have a moment," Dean announced when their first witness opened the door to his apartment.

"FBI?" Harris Redding asked, his dark brow creased with confusion.

"Yes sir," Dean confirmed and showed his fake badge, Sam following suit a moment later.

"I already spoke to the FBI and told them I didn't remember anything important," Redding told the Winchesters and Dean frowned.

"Who'd you speak with?" he asked, curious, and cautious.

"An Agent… one second, I got his card here somewhere," the door closed on the Winchesters as Redding went in search of the card he'd been given.

"Dean," Sam said quietly, "Do you think its-"

The rest of Sam's sentence was cut off when Redding opened the door and showed them the card, "Rossi, that was his name. David Rossi. You know him?"

Dean's eyes widened slightly in shock, "Yeah, I do."

SPN

Sam held his head in his hands, trying to think as Dean paced the motel room floor behind him.

"Shit," his brother swore, "This isn't good."

Sam tried to block out his brother's voice and concentrate.

"They probably think its some psycho," Dean continued, talking to himself.

"Sam," the young man flinched at the sound of Lucifer's voice but Dean didn't react, he hadn't noticed.

"You have all the facts," Lucifer continued, "All you have to do is connect the dots."

Sam clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. The Devil whispering in his ear was not helping.

"I could help you," Lucifer wheedled, "You just have to ask. Just like in Coeur d'Alene."

Sam ground his teeth together, "I don't want your help."

"Sam? Sammy, are you okay?" Dean exclaimed suddenly and the young man felt his brother's hands on his shoulders.

Sam flinched and Dean released him, only to grab his hands and pull them away from his head.

"Sam," Dean murmured, "Hey, Sam, what is it?"

The younger sibling opened his eyes slowly, peering into his brother's concerned hazel ones.

"Talk to me," Dean said, almost begging.

"I- I'm fine," Sam muttered, trying to pull his hands from Dean's grip.

"No," Dean stated, "You're not."

"Dean," Sam pleaded, "Just leave it."

His brother shook his head, "I can't Sam."

Sam's eyes pricked with tears and he heard Lucifer laugh.

"Please, Sam," Dean begged, "Let me help you."

Sam's lower lip trembled and he was sure he was going to breakdown any moment now.

"Stone number one, remember?" Dean pressed his thumb lightly against the scar on Sam's palm, "You can tell me anything. You know that. Who am I to judge?"

"That's very accommodating of Dean, don't you think?" Lucifer spoke up, a smirk in his voice, "Where was he when you were drinking demon blood, Sammy? He certainly passed judgment then. And you were just trying to do the right thing."

Sam cringed and Dean squeezed his hands, "It's okay, Sammy. He can't hurt you. He isn't real."

Sam blinked up at Dean, eyes brimming because his brother was wrong. He had never been so wrong.

Lucifer was as real as the chair he was sitting in and he could hurt Sam.

"D'n," Sam choked and started crying, wanting so badly to confide in his brother but terrified at the same time.

Dean gathered Sam in a hug, holding onto him tightly.

"I've got ya, Sammy," he murmured, "It's alright. I've got ya."

Sam grabbed onto Dean's shirt, clenching the warm fabric tightly as though his brother might disappear at any moment.

Dean didn't say anything for a moment, only squeezing Sam harder, wanting nothing more than to ease his sibling's pain but clueless as how to do so.

Finally he released Sam and brushed the younger man's bangs away from his brow. Sam looked back at Dean with haunted eyes but said nothing. Instead he pushed his chair back and stood.

"Sam?" Dean said and leaped up in shock when his brother's eyes rolled up and he fell to the floor.

"Sam!" Dean cried and knelt beside his brother, fingers pressed to his sibling's neck to feel for a pulse.

The younger man's heartbeat thudded steadily beneath his brother's hand and Dean sighed in relief.

Bending down, Dean grabbed Sam underneath armpits and heaved him up, and dragged him across the motel room, depositing him in the bed farthest from the door.

Peering sadly down at his brother, Dean wiped a weary hand over his face. Sam needed to eat. And sleep.

Dean checked his watch and decided that it was close enough to lunchtime. He'd go and get something for them, wake Sam if he was still asleep- though he was loath to- and make him eat. After that, although Dean hated it, he'd help Sam research because they needed to find out what was killing the citizens of Miller's Falls and they needed to do so as quickly as possible.

Although he didn't want to leave Sam alone, Dean had no choice. He checked and double-checked that the room was properly warded, that the door was securely locked, before climbing into the seat of their stolen car and driving down to a diner they'd passed on their way into town.

SPN

"Anything?"

Reid looked up to see Prentiss leaning in the doorway of the conference room, looking tired and solemn.

Spencer shook his head and ran a hand through his hair.

"I don't understand. There seems to be no connection at all between the victims," he lamented.

"Did you ask Garcia-" the dark-haired agent asked but was cut off as Reid nodded.

"She looked into their histories, dug through their phone and electronic communications…. It seems like these people never crossed paths at all until they met the unsub."

Reid tore his gaze away from the map spread out on the table- red pins marking the locations of the victims' bodies while green pins represented their addresses- and stared at the photographs pinned to the bulletin board behind him.

"All different ages, genders, races…" the doctor muttered to himself.

None of this made sense.

"Why don't you go back to the hotel and get some rest?" Emily suggested, "You've been at this for hours."

Reid turned to look at the female agent, "But-"

Emily though, stepped into the room and shook her head, "Hotch's orders. I'm taking over for you."

Reid wanted to object. He was certain he would find something if only he could survey the map a little longer, check the list of people the victims had called and emailed and texted once more…

Morgan stuck his head in through the doorway, "C'mon Kid. Shift change."

Sighing, Reid gave up.

"Alright," he muttered and walked towards the door, grabbing his messenger bag as he did so.

Morgan fell into step beside Reid and the doctor caught his friend peering at him from the corner of his eye.

"You okay?" Morgan asked concernedly.

Reid shrugged, "Stressed. But what case isn't stressful?"

Morgan nodded, "I know. Nothing seems to make sense with this one."

Reid hitched the strap of his bag higher onto his shoulder, "It just feels like it's a big puzzle and we're missing the most important piece, you know? The one that brings the picture together."

"We'll figure out who this asshole is," Morgan assured him, "We always do."

SPN

Dean stepped inside the motel room and saw that his brother was still sleeping- miraculously- and sighed.

He was loath to wake his brother; Sam hardly got any sleep these days, but Dean needed to get some food into his sibling.

Setting the paper bag and drink tray on the table, Dean allowed his brother a few more minutes of rest as he organized the meal.

As Dean worked he thought about the BAU team he'd met only a few months ago. He couldn't believe that they were once again in the same city. Although his common sense told him to stay clear of law enforcement types, his instincts told him that the team needed help. They didn't know but they were on the trail of a monster, a real one, and they certainly would get hurt if and when they caught up with it. Not only that, the agents had believed Dean when he'd told them the truth. He knew it must have been very difficult for them and he admired their willingness to hear his side of the story.

Once he and Sam figured out what this monster was and how to kill it, Dean would go to the team and convince them to call off their investigation.

He knew it wasn't going to be easy but he hoped he could convince the agents without actually having to tell them the truth. The BAU fought enough human monsters they didn't need to be worried about the supernatural ones as well.

Dean finished setting the table and turned to look at his slumbering brother.

Without waiting any longer, Dean crossed to the bed and gently shook Sam's shoulder. The younger man flinched and stared up at him with wary eyes for a long moment.

"Lunchtime Sammy."

"M'not hungry," Sam replied sleepily but Dean shook his head, "I wasn't asking if you wanted lunch. I was telling you."

Sam made no move to sit up, "I'm fine."

"Like hell you are!" Dean snapped, "You fainted like a girl after crying on my shoulder for ten minutes!"

Sam frowned, "I wasn't crying."

Dean mirrored the expression, "You're going to eat lunch."

Sam looked about to argue but then he sighed and sat up, sweeping his bangs away from his eyes.

"You've hardly been eating, man," Dean continued, his tone less severe.

Sam didn't disagree.

"Look," Dean said, "If you don't eat, you'll get sick and hospitals aren't exactly the safest places for us right now."

"Okay, okay," Sam muttered, "I get it."

Sam stood and followed Dean to the small table sitting down across from his older brother and peering down at the lunch his sibling had bought him.

"What is it?" Sam asked, staring down at the burger sitting on its paper wrapping.

"A burger," Dean replied, "Well, a soy burger; I know you like healthy crap like that."

Sam wrinkled his nose and lifted the top of the bun to peer uncertainly at the condiments.

"Don't ask me what's on it," Dean mumbled through his own cheeseburger, "The girl said it had some argo… agro… lettuce stuff and red onions and some green salad dressing on it."

"Arugula," Sam said absentmindedly and Dean nodded, "Yeah, that was it."

"Anyway, it has all the stuff you like so I hope you enjoy it," Dean told him and took a sip of his Coca Cola.

Sam set the top bun back onto the burger and picked up the whole sandwich.

Dean watched as Sam took a bite of the burger and chewed slowly, experimentally, before seeming to like- or at least tolerate it- and continued eating.

Dean couldn't help but smile somewhat smugly as he continued to enjoy his own lunch.

W

"We have to figure out what this son of a bitch is," Dean said as he cleaned up the leftovers from lunch. Not that there was much, only the paper wrappings from their burgers and empty drink cups.

Sam, without having to be told, had eaten all of his food and although he didn't look much better, seemed slightly more focused.

The younger man sighed, "I don't know Dean. I can't find anything."

"We'll figure it out. Look, we can go to the library or whatever. I'll even help you."

Sam gave Dean an incredulous look, "You'll actually do research?"

Dean shrugged the question off, "Yeah. Why not? Two heads are better than one, right?"

And with you getting less and less sleep, you'll need a sharp mind and a pair of fresh eyes.

"I guess," Sam admitted uncertainly, "You sure you don't want to talk to the witnesses or something? Maybe visit the morgue?"

Dean held back a grimace at the thought of examining the victims' remains.

Dean shook his head, "With two of us researching we hopefully won't have to talk to the witnesses or the coroner. We know how this thing kills; it's pretty damn specific. We should be able to find out what it is in no time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from a Rush song.


	5. Mean As Hell

The words on the page began to swim before Sam's eyes and he pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment.

Glancing at the clock on the wall across from him, Sam saw that he and Dean had been in the library for nearly five hours.

And they had absolutely nothing.

Dean looked up from the book he was looking at and Sam shook his head, closing the tome he'd been skimming through.

"Maybe we should take a break," Sam suggested. His vision was blurring and his back ached.

Besides that, Lucifer was sitting in the seat beside Sam, tearing pages out of the discarded books and folding them into paper airplanes, launching them at the younger Winchester.

"Okay," Dean said but made no move to get up, "Stretch your legs, get a coffee. I'll be here."

Sam stared at his brother in disbelief. Dean actually wanted to continue researching. He wasn't jumping up at the chance to look at a book that had more pictures than words in it.

Sam sighed and grabbed another book- this one on European folklore- and opened it to the table of contents.

"You're getting warmer Sammy," Lucifer commented and the young man grimaced as an airplane hit the side of his head.

SPN

Morgan woke groggily, confused as to what had woken him.

He stared blankly at the ceiling for a moment, trying to figure it out when he heard a soft cry from the bed beside his. Lifting his head, the agent saw the occupant of the bed twisted in the sheets, limbs moving slowly though purposefully as though even in sleep he was trying to flee some unknown terror.

"Reid!" Morgan flung his own blankets away and crossed to his friend's bed, reaching out to put a reassuring hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"No!" the doctor cried out and his eyes flew open, terrified even in the darkness.

"Reid!" Morgan said again, "It's okay. It's just a nightmare."

Breathing heavily, the doctor sat up, slumped forward, trembling.

Morgan squeezed Reid's shoulder comfortingly.

"You alright?"

Without looking at him, Spencer nodded.

"Wanna talk about it?" Morgan asked. Although it was late and they both needed sleep, he would stay up with his friend as long as he needed to.

Reid breathed a sigh and raked his fingers through his hair, "I… no… I don't think so."

Morgan frowned.

"You sure? Maybe I can help?"

Reid shook his head.

"I just want to go back to sleep, okay?"

Morgan lowered his hand from the other man's shoulder, "Yeah, sure. Whatever you want."

Reid lay back down, turning so that his back faced Morgan.

The dark-skinned agent remained where he was for a moment longer before sighing and returning to his own bed.

He lay wide-awake, listening to his friend's even breathing, trying to pick up on any sign of the beginnings of a nightmare.

It was going to be a long night.

SPN

Sam stared down at the text in front of him. He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again and the words were still there. They didn't swim or vanish off the page.

"Dean," Sam called, louder than he should have. Another library patron shushed him.

His brother, who had been approaching with yet another armload of books, picked up speed. Dean dumped the tomes on the table and pulled up a chair to sit beside Sam.

Lucifer, sitting on the young man's other side, leaned back and crossed his arm, looking smug.

Sam slid the book towards his brother and Dean read, lips moving as he did so.

"That's disgusting," Dean commented, grimacing.

"No wonder we couldn't find anything," Sam said quietly, "She's only supposed to terrorize that one area in England."

Dean nodded, "Can we kill her?"

Sam frowned, "I don't know, it doesn't say."

"Shit," Dean swore and received a withering look from the same library patron who had shushed Sam.

The younger Winchester peered down at the book again, rereading the information:

Black Annis, described as a hag with a blue face and iron claws, was a bogeyman- or woman- figure for the English children in Leicestershire. She lived in the Dane Hills; in a cave she had dug out of the cliff face, leaving her home at night in search of her prey.

The hag had a taste for lambs and humans, especially children. She would cut their throats and then remove the skins, eating the revealed internal organs. Black Annis kept her victims' skin, tanning them and hanging them on a belt around her waist.

"How are we going to find her?" Dean asked, "I don't think there's any cliffs near here."

Sam shrugged, "At least we know what it is now."

"Yeah," Dean agreed, "But we still don't know where she likes to hang out or, more importantly, how to kill her."

Sam sighed, exhausted from the hours of reading.

"Let's go back to the motel," he suggested, "I can look on the Internet and see if there's more information on her there."

"Okay," Dean agreed, "You want to bring the book?"

Sam shook his head, "I'll remember."

Dean smiled and patted Sam on the back, "'Course you will, Geek-boy."

W

"I am right here, Sam," Lucifer drawled, "Your very own Encyclopedia Supernatural."

Sam didn't say anything. His gaze remained fixed on the website he was browsing.

"What's wrong? Are you afraid Dean will hear? He's too busy singing his heart out in the shower to hear anything," the Devil continued, "A bomb could go off outside the door and he wouldn't know."

Sam hunched his shoulders but remained silent. The last time he had acknowledged Lucifer, the Devil had made it very clear that he had no intentions of leaving Sam alone.

Lucifer stood up from where he'd been lounging on the young man's bed and walked over to Sam, stopping only when he was right behind the hunter's chair.

Sam shivered at the cold coming off the Devil in waves and clenched his jaw.

Lucifer leaned forwards as though he too were reading the words on the screen, one hand coming up to rest on Sam's shoulder.

Sam's attention drifted away from his laptop as a memory came to mind, unwanted…

... the smell of burning flesh and sulfur fills the air, coating Sam's tongue and making his eyes water...

…he can't move. He's trapped. Tied to the rack…

… please don't, he begs uselessly, the words rendered meaningless long ago…

…michael and Lucifer loom over him, the fallen angel holding a long curved blade…

…blood splatters and Sam cries out in agony…

…he hears someone calling his name. Adam. Sam tries to reply, tell his brother that its okay but he's choking on his own blood…

SPN

Dean stepped out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam. Refreshed and energized, he was ready to start research again. But first, lunch.

"Hey Sam-" Dean began but stopped dead when he caught sight of his sibling, "SAM!"

Forgetting all about food, Dean rushed across the small motel room to where Sam sat at the table, shaking, tears streaming down his face from beneath his closed eyelids.

"Sammy," Dean murmured and gripped his brother's shoulder, startled when the younger man pulled back with a strangled cry.

Frowning, Dean wrapped both arms around his brother's trembling frame, "Hey, hey, it's okay. It's alright. Calm down."

Dean took hold of Sam's left hand and pried his fingers open, pressing down on the scar on his palm.

Sam opened his eyes halfway and he rested his chin on Dean's shoulder, tears continuing to drip down his cheeks.

As he had done when Sam had been little, Dean began to rock them both gently, rubbing his sibling's back as he did so.

"Shhh," Dean whispered, "I've got ya. You're okay. I'm not gonna let anything hurt you, Sammy."

The older brother bit his lip, wishing that his words were true. Sure, he could protect Sam from demons and Leviathans and all manner of supernatural beasties but he could not protect his brother from his own mind, from his memories.

SPN

Reid sipped at the crappy coffee he had poured himself from the maker in the main area of the police station. He avoided Morgan's gaze and turned his attention instead to Hotchner.

"I've talked to Strauss and she said the director wants to take us off the case if we don't get this solved soon," the Unit Chief said seriously, to exclamations of protest from the rest of his team.

"We've never been removed from a case!" Emily argued, "Why would Strauss do that?"

Hotch turned to the dark-haired agent, "It isn't her decision. It's up to the Director, ultimately."

"Who'd replace us?" Morgan asked, eyebrows knitted together in irritation.

Hotchner shook his head, "I don't know."

"We can't let that happen, Aaron," Rossi announced, "What would that say about us?"

"I am trying to stall for time," Hotchner told the team, "But it is running out."

"What can we do?" JJ asked, her brown eyes showing concern.

"Reid, I want you to stay here and look over the map again. Talk to Garcia and see if she can dig a little deeper into the victims' lives, there has to be something there," Hotchner instructed and the doctor nodded, "The rest of us will interview the witnesses again."

SPN

"C'mon Sammy," Dean cajoled, "C'mon, you need to lie down."

Sam didn't move. He shook his head, hands gripping the back of Dean's shirt tightly.

"C'mon Sam," Dean continued, "You'll feel better after you've had some rest."

"I c-can't," Sam whispered, "I c-can't, D-Dean."

"Why?" Dean asked mostly to keep his brother talking.

"H-He won't l-let me," Sam told him, "He w-won't let m-me sleep."

Dean closed his eyes for a moment. Yeah, he'd had nightmares when he'd returned from Hell, ones bad enough to make him think he was actually back there. But this was different. Sure, Sam had nightmares too, but he also had Lucifer hanging around, preventing him from even getting any sleep most nights. Dean wasn't stupid. He could put two and two together and when Sam said he'd woken early and had dark circles around eyes that were becoming more and more sunken, Dean knew that Sam wasn't sleeping.

Guess its time for Plan B, Dean thought and extracted himself from his brother.

Sam slumped in his seat, hair covering his eyes and wiped at his damp cheeks.

Going to his duffel bag, Dean rummaged through it before finding what he needed and taking it back to his brother.

He twisted the top off the bottle of sleeping pills, broke the seal with the car keys and shook two small blue capsules onto his palm.

Sam stared down at them for a long minute.

"How long have you had those?"

"I picked them up when I went for lunch yesterday," Dean answered, "If you don't want to talk to me, that's fine. I won't make you, but please, take these. Maybe they'll help you sleep."

"I don't know," Sam replied skeptically but Dean was sure he saw a hopeful look cross his brother's face, just for a moment.

Sam reached out for the pills, cringing at something Dean couldn't see and grabbed them from his palm, swallowing them dry.

Please God, Dean prayed silently, let these work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from a Johnny Cash song.


	6. Point Of No Return

Dean held his breath for a moment before letting it go slowly. Sam was asleep. Really asleep.

He lay on his back on the bed, his chest rising and falling evenly.

Thank God, Dean thought and turned to Sam's computer, the screen saver conserving energy.

"Let's see how to kill this bitch," the hunter muttered quietly to himself and sat down, touching the mouse pad to deactivate the screen saver and pulled up the Web browser.

W

Dean closed the laptop with a sigh of frustration.

How could there be no way to kill this Black Annis hag?

He stood up, stretching and checked his watch. It was nearing dinnertime and he was hungry, having missed lunch. Sam was still fast asleep though and Dean didn't want to wake him.

Deciding that he wouldn't be doing anyone any good if he didn't eat, Dean decided to pick something up from the diner he'd visited the day before.

Writing a quick note to his brother on the motel's stationary- in case Sam woke up to find himself alone- Dean ran out the door, starting up the stolen car and heading to the restaurant.

SPN

Penelope Garcia stared at her computer screen through orange-framed glasses. She saw nothing that could help her team.

"I'm sorry, Reid," she apologized sadly, "I've dug as deep as I can and I have nothing. This has never happened to me before…"

"That's okay, Garcia," the young doctor assured her but the Technical Analyst didn't feel at all better.

"Ohh, what's going to happen? Is Strauss going to kick you off the case?" she asked anxiously. The team was the best in the Bureau, she didn't know what sending someone else in could do.

"Hotch is trying to stop that from happening," Reid replied, sounding exhausted.

"It just doesn't add up," he lamented, "Not even a little. It's as though the unsub is picking off random victims."

Garcia scratched her blonde, orange-streaked hair for a moment, "Could that be it? I know I'm not much of a profiler but… maybe that is what's going on?"

"No," Reid told her, "There's always some kind of connection, no matter how small."

Garcia wished she could be of more use. She wanted to give the team good news but there was none.

"I- I'll look again," she told the doctor.

"You don't have to do that," Reid protested but Garcia interrupted him.

"I want to. I will find something," she promised.

"Okay… talk to you later, Penelope," Reid bade his farewell and ended the cell phone call.

Pushing her glasses up to the bridge of her nose, Garcia pulled up all the information she had on the victims, leaning forwards in her chair as she began to re-read everything, searching desperately for a tiny shred of Intel that would connect them.

SPN

Sam actually felt better. More rested than he had been in days. His sleep had been dreamless- a bonus- and upon opening his eyes he saw no sign of Lucifer.

He ate the salad Dean bought him for dinner with no complaints and took a nice hot shower afterwards, while his brother settled in to watch some TV.

Sam pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of old sweatpants, comfortable clothes, ready to try and research some more even though he was sure Dean would tell him to take the rest of the night off.

Opening the bathroom door, Sam's smile faltered at the sight of Lucifer sitting on his bed, an unhappy expression on the fallen angel's face.

The young man quickly pressed down on the scar on his palm; he's not real, it's okay, he's not real…

"Hey, Sammy, feeling better?" Dean called across the small room, not even looking up at him, too focused on the television.

"Y-Yeah," Sam said and left the bathroom, tearing his gaze away from the Devil and taking a seat at the table where his laptop was.

Sam felt his brother's eyes on his back as he opened the laptop's lid and typed in his password.

"Why don't you call it a day?" Dean suggested, "You've been researching for hours."

"People are dying, Dean," Sam replied as he pulled up the Web browser, "I can't let that happen."

The younger man hunched his shoulders when he heard footsteps approach but relaxed slightly when he felt his brother's warm hand on his back.

"I know Sammy," Dean told him, "I want to ice this bitch as much as you do, but you can't if you're exhausted."

Sam's shoulders slumped. Dean was right. Sighing, he turned around and followed Dean to his bed and leaned against the headboard, surprised when his sibling handed him the remote.

"Find us something," Dean said nonchalantly.

Sam pointed the remote at the television, trying hard to not let his gaze slide to the right, to where Lucifer was sitting on his bed.

He quickly found an episode of Jeopardy! and set the remote down, grateful that Dean only leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest and said nothing.

W

"Sam."

The young man frowned in his sleep but didn't wake.

"Sammy."

The hunter opened his eyes to find Lucifer's face inches from his own.

With a gasp of surprise, Sam sat up, pushing himself towards the headboard until his back pressed against the smooth wood.

The Devil gave a Cheshire cat grin, "I was worried you were going to sleep for hours."

Sam leaned forward, elbows on his knees and pressed his hands against his eyes.

"What time is it?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"Two a.m."

Sam groaned and lowered his hands, glancing to his side, he was Dean lying in his own bed, snoring slightly in his sleep.

"What do you want?" Sam asked in a whisper, not wanting to wake his brother.

"I know how to kill that hag," Lucifer told him matter-of-factly.

Sam didn't say anything.

"C'mon, Sammy," the Devil wheedled and the young man clenched his jaw.

"I've forgiven you for falling asleep on me earlier," Lucifer continued, smiling, "Besides, that was Dean's fault for giving you those sleeping pills."

"You are NOT REAL!" Sam hissed, digging his thumb against the scar on his palm.

Lucifer just shook his head and tsked, "You're confused, that's all."

Sam narrowed his eyes at the fallen angel.

"How do you know that I'm not real? How do you know this isn't just some new game, hm?"

"It- It's not!" Sam insisted, gaze traveling to Dean's sleeping form, "Dean got me out."

Lucifer smiled and moved forward before Sam could stop him.

SPN

Fuck.

Dean leaped into action, turned on the light between the two beds and grabbed his brother.

"Shhh," Dean murmured more forcefully than he meant to, pulling his brother against him, "It's okay, it's okay."

Sam snapped out of it quickly- thankfully- and slumped against Dean's chest, his own rising and falling rapidly.

"Take it easy," Dean soothed, "Just breathe."

"D'n," Sam whimpered and the older brother lowered his head, "Yeah, Sammy?"

"Y-You got me o-out, right?"

Dean's eyebrows furrowed in confusion for a moment before he answered, "Yeah. Yeah, I did. You're not there anymore, okay? You're safe."

"H-He said," Sam began, his voice watery and Dean gripped his brother tighter.

"He isn't real, Sammy," Dean muttered to his sibling, "It's all in your head."

Sam gulped and Dean felt tears splatter onto his shirt.

"If this isn't real and it's all the Cage," Dean ventured, "Would I be here, huh?"

Sam sucked in a couple of harsh breaths before shaking his head.

"Nuh-No," he answered quietly.

Dean nodded. He carefully shifted his position so that he was sitting beside Sam and brushed his sibling's bangs back.

"You okay now?"

Sam wiped at his face and nodded.

Smiling sadly, Dean stood up but paused when Sam spoke again.

"Can I…" Sam glanced down, embarrassed, "Sleep in your bed?"

Dean opened his mouth. It had been years. Years. Since Sam had asked that. Dean was certain Sam had been ten years old- and fighting off a bad ear infection- when he'd last voiced that particular request.

The eldest Winchester glanced down at his bed; it barely was big enough for him with the way he liked to sprawl out, there was no way both he and Sam could fit on it.

"I have an idea," Dean said and stepped into the space between the two beds, pulling the cords for the lamp and alarm clock out of the wall before shoving the dresser they sat on to the end of the bed. Once the obstacles were out of the way, Dean went around to the far side of his bed and, reaching down, he shoved his bed across the short distance until it touched the other one.

"There," Dean looked up, dusting his palms off dramatically.

Sam nodded and lay back down in his bed, turning so that he was facing Dean.

The older brother climbed into bed and settled down, lying on his stomach with one arm outstretched until he could feel Sam's hair beneath his fingers.

Dean closed his eyes, his fingers idly playing with the ends of Sam's long hair before he fell asleep.

W

Dean groaned tiredly and stretched, opening his eyes to find his brother's bed empty.

Sitting up quickly, Dean spied Sam sitting at the table, shoulders hunched and head bowed as he stared at the screen of his laptop.

Glancing at his watch, Dean saw that it was nine o'clock in the morning.

Before Dean could speak, Sam turned in his seat to face him. Dean frowned at Sam's sunken, red-rimmed eyes but waited for his brother to talk first.

"An oak stake," Sam said quietly, "That's how you kill her."

Dean frowned, confused, before realization hit.

"The hag? We have to stab her with a stake made of oak?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah."

Dean smiled encouragingly at his brother, "I knew you'd find it."

Sam glanced down, "Uh… Yeah… Thanks."

"Are you hungry?" Dean asked, "I wanna get something to eat before going to the station."

Sam looked up sharply, "You're going to talk to the BAU team?"

Dean nodded, "I want to let them know what's going on before anyone else gets killed."

Sam's expression turned skeptical, "How are you going to explain it to them?"

"I'll tell them the truth," Dean shrugged.

Sam nodded. Dean peered sympathetically at his brother, "You feeling okay?"

"Y-Yeah," Sam replied quietly, "Better."

"Okay," Dean said, not completely convinced by Sam's words but deciding his worries could take the backburner for now- at least until he'd spoken to the agents- and grabbed his jacket off the back of one of the chairs.

"Let's get something to eat and go," he said casually as possible, "I don't want to wait all day to do this."

Sam stared at him.

"You want me to come with you?"

Dean rolled his eyes, "Would you rather stay here by yourself?"

Sam shook his head, "It's just… You're not worried I'll freak out?"

Dean shrugged, "If it happens we'll work through it."

Sam looked uncertain of his brother's confidence but he stood, not wanting to be alone with only Lucifer for company.

The brothers left the motel room and headed to the nearby diner for a quick breakfast before heading into town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from a song by Kansas.


	7. Hammer To Fall

Dean gripped the steering wheel tightly, nervously. He turned up the radio, Metallica blasting from the speakers doing nothing to calm him.

Sam sat beside him in the passenger's seat, ramrod straight, eyes wide but slightly glazed with exhaustion.

All Dean could do was run scenarios through his head about what could potentially happen when he told the FBI team the truth. His favourite popped into his mind again:

The team stood in a circle around him and Sam.

"Look, I know how this sounds but you have to believe us," Dean said, staring at the serious expressions of the BAU members.

"Monsters are real," Sam spoke up, "We fight them."

Aaron Hotchner shook his head, "It's clear that your brother is a very troubled individual, Dean."

"We're telling the truth!" he exclaimed as suddenly two police officers showed up, their attention on Sam.

Dean stumbled back when Derek Morgan punched him in the face and shouted, "Someone get me a straightjacket!"

Dean fought as an officer grabbed him, cuffing his hands.

"Sam! No! Sammy!" Dean shouted as the other officer grabbed his brother and started to drag Sam out of the room.

"We're going to get you help," that hot, blonde agent- JJ- told Dean but he wasn't listening.

"Sammy! No! Let me go with him! Sam!"

Dean shook his head and frowned. He was not going to let that happen. Even if the team didn't believe him, there was no way in hell he was going to let them take Sam away.

Glancing at his brother from the corner of his eye, Dean wondered if he should have told Sam to stay in the motel room, take some of those sleeping pills and rest.

No, Dean told himself, he's better here. Where I can keep an eye on him.

SPN

Lucifer followed Sam as he climbed out of the car even though the young man tried to ignore him.

He's not real, Sam told himself, he's stuck in his Cage.

Sam walked beside Dean as they approached the redbrick building. His palms were growing sweaty with nerves.

"Don't ignore me, Sam," the Devil warned him.

SPN

Dean walked into the police station as though he owned the place. He oozed his usual confidence and hoped that no one would give him and his brother a second glance.

Dean was glad that he didn't have to ask where the team was- the conference room had glass walls so the agents were easily visible.

Walking with purpose, Dean didn't even knock on the door before opening it.

Six pairs of eyes turned in his direction and the eldest Winchester smiled.

"Miss me?" he asked with a smirk.

"Dean?" Aaron Hotchner asked, taking a step forward.

"The one and only," he announced, stepping into the room- Sam close behind him- and closing the door.

"What are you doing here?" the Unit Chief asked, frowning.

"I'm here for the same reason you are," Dean replied, "Because some fugly is killing people."

"Sam?" the voice came from Dr. Reid who had caught sight of the younger brother apparently trying to hide behind Dean.

Dean smiled. He glanced quickly at Sam but his brother seemed alright for now and he put a comforting hand on his sibling's shoulder as Spencer Reid approached them.

"Do you… remember me?" the doctor asked, clearly thinking that Sam wouldn't since he'd been severely injured and dehydrated at the time of their 'introduction' in Cunningham's garage.

Sam gave a small smile of acknowledgement and held out his hand.

"Spencer, right?" he asked, glancing nervously at Dean from the corner of his eye for a moment.

"Yes," the agent answered, taking hold of Sam's hand, "I'm glad to see you're okay."

Sam smiled but the expression did not meet his eyes.

"What do you mean you're here for our case?" Rossi asked, breaking up the impromptu reunion of Spencer and Sam.

Dean sighed. Here came the hard part. He looked up at the pictures displayed on the whiteboard across the room.

"This is going to sound completely nuts," he began slowly, "But just hear me out, okay?"

Morgan crossed his arms over his chest and Dean shifted closer to his brother.

"What is it?" Agent Hotchner asked, expression stony.

"You've been having trouble pinning this yahoo down right? Can't figure out what its motive is?" Dean asked and Aaron nodded.

"How did you know?" Emily Prentiss asked.

Dean smirked, "I'm good at what I do, Sweetheart."

The Unit Chief cleared his throat and Dean continued, "Okay, the reason you're having so much trouble with this one is… well, it's not a who, its more of a what."

The agents frowned.

"What are you talking about?" JJ asked, her eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"Okay, so, I'm gonna tell you something and you have to promise not to freak out? Alright?" Dean asked.

When he received no answer, he continued, "The killer you're looking for is a hag."

"An old woman?" Reid asked, confused and Sam shook his head.

"Her name is Black Annis," he said quietly, "She's native to Leicestershire, England but for some reason has migrated this way. She's the one who killed those people."

"She's a monster," Dean continued, "Like Godzilla."

Dean's heart dropped at the looks of disbelief the team was giving him and Sam.

"Uh…" Dean stammered, not sure if they should try and leave or not.

"How many unsolved cases do you have locked up in Quantico?" Sam spoke up again, "Hundreds? Thousands? Have you ever come across a crime that you just couldn't explain, where nothing seemed right?"

Rossi nodded, "Of course, but…"

"Some of those were probably cases that involved monsters."

"When you say 'monsters' you mean actual monsters?" Emily asked, brushing her long black hair over her shoulder.

"Yeah," Dean spoke up, "There's hags, like the one here, but there are others."

"Vampires?" Reid asked and Dean nodded.

"What else?" JJ asked.

Dean wasn't sure if they were suddenly curious because they were willing to believe him and Sam or they just wanted something to write on the paper work when they were committed.

"Werewolves, demons, shapeshifters," Sam answered.

Reid frowned, "I've seen ghosts before."

The other members of his team stared at him. The doctor blushed with embarrassment.

Dean looked hopefully at Agent Hotchner.

"Tell us about this thing," the Unit Chief demanded and Dean sighed in relief.

SPN

Reid knew there was something wrong with Sam Winchester.

He was a profiler. He'd seen it as soon as the young man had stepped into the room.

And it wasn't just the man's eyes, sunken with dark circles around them, or how pale his face was.

It was the way he hunched his shoulders protectively, the way he stood too close to Dean, even though they were brothers.

Reid saw it in the way Sam glanced quickly away from the grisly crime-scene photos taped to the whiteboard.

He saw it in the way the young man surreptitiously pressed his thumb into the palm of his left hand.

Reid knew there was something wrong with the younger Winchester because he had seen the same expression Sam was wearing, on his own mother's face whenever her illness became bad.

The doctor said nothing though; he listened to Dean describe the way this unsub- hag- had killed an entire flock of sheep a few weeks ago and then turned to human prey.

At least they knew how to kill it; or so Dean claimed. A stake made from the wood of an oak tree should do it in.

"But we still don't know where she's hiding," Dean confessed, "That's the only thing."

The team turned eyes on Reid.

"Have you heard about this Black Annis before?" Hotchner asked and the doctor shook his head.

"Alright," the Unit Chief announced, "I'm calling Garcia to see if she can help us."

SPN

Garcia picked up the phone when it rang, Hotchner's name on the screen. The Technical Analyst bit her lip, knowing Aaron was calling for more information. Information that she just didn't have.

"Yes Captain?" she asked, trying to sounds as cheerful as possible.

"Garcia, I need you to look up and send me anything you find on Black Annis."

The woman blinked, confused.

"Black Annis? What's that? Some kind of spice?"

"It's a mythological hag that originates from England," Aaron answered in his usual calm tone.

"Oh…" Penelope replied, "Can I ask why I have to look this up?"

"We have reason to believe that she is our unsub."

Garcia didn't respond.

"Um…" she began but had no idea what to say.

"Are you getting enough sleep, Sir? Maybe you should lie down," she tried, wondering if the Unit Chief needed a long vacation.

"I'm fine, Garcia," Aaron assured her, "The Winchesters-"

The Technical Analyst squeaked, "The Winchesters?!"

"Yes, they are working with us again," Hotch told her.

"Sir, do you think that's such a good idea?" Penelope asked nervously, she knew the rest of the team believed them to be good men but she still wasn't so sure.

"Can you look up that information for us?" Aaron asked, his tone stern.

"Yes, of course," Garcia regained her composure and began typing, "I'll let you know as soon as I have something."

W

Unknown to Garcia, Agent Valente had stopped outside of her door on his way past, catching mention of the Winchester brothers as he did so.

Smiling, the Leviathan took out his phone and placed a direct call to Dick Roman.

"Hello Sir," he said quietly, already making his way down the staircase towards the bullpen, "I've found them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from a song by Queen.


	8. Strangeland

"Can I ask why you all seem so calm about this?" Dean said as he took the coffee Morgan offered him, "I mean, not that I'm complaining, but… usually civilians put up more of a fight than this."

Rossi answered, smiling grimly, "We hunt monsters in men's clothing almost everyday, it doesn't take a great stretch of the imagination to accept the existence of real monsters."

Dean shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. Sam was sitting beside him with his own cup, staring rather intently into its dark depths.

"How do you know about monsters?" JJ asked, twisting a lock of blonde hair around her finger nervously.

Dean set his cup of coffee down and ran a hand through his short-cropped hair.

"It's kind of a long story…" he hedged.

"We've got time," Rossi said, glancing up at the clock above the whiteboard.

Dean glanced at the faces of the men and women of the BAU team and sighed.

"I guess you should know the story- the real story," he admitted.

Of course Dean wasn't going to give them everything, there were many things in his and Sam's life that didn't need to be shared, but he'd at least let the BAU know how and why they were hunters.

"When we were kids," Dean began softly, making eye contact with each agent, "A demon killed our mother and our Dad vowed to get revenge against it."

Agent Hotchner nodded, "That was the night of the fire, right? I read about it in your file."

"Yeah," Dean said, "That was our first encounter with the supernatural."

W

For the next half-hour Dean talked, giving the agents the revised version of his and Sam's lives, keeping it as vague as possible.

Afterwards the team sat silent, stunned.

Dean looked over at Sam. He hoped he had done the right thing by telling the team their history. He had made sure to leave out the most important parts- his death and resurrection, his kick-off of the Apocalypse, Sam letting Lucifer out and his subsequent trip Downstairs- and only told what the agents needed to know.

"So there are more hunters like you?" JJ asked and Dean nodded, "All over the world. Trying to keep average folks safe."

"It's hard to believe that something like this could be kept secret for so long," Rossi said in awe.

Dean smirked, "Yeah well, most hunters aren't the friendliest of people. We like to keep to ourselves."

He glanced over at Sam who had not taken one drink of his coffee, the beverage now cold.

"Sammy?"

Dean reached out and turned his brother's head so he could get a better look at his face.

Shit, Dean swore silently at Sam's red-rimmed, wet eyes.

Dean gripped Sam's head, keeping his brother's eyes focused on him.

"It's okay, Sammy," he murmured quietly.

"Dean? Is he alright?" Morgan asked but the hunter ignored him.

"What is it? C'mon," Dean continued, "Just take some deep breaths."

Sam pulled away from Dean, "I- I'm okay."

The younger brother stood shakily but Dean was not relieved. His sibling's body language told him Sam was not well.

"Sam," Dean said cautiously before his brother flinched at something unseen and his legs gave out from underneath him.

Dean and Morgan moved at the same time. Dean made it to his brother first though and pulled Sam up to lean his back against his chest.

Morgan dropped to the floor, gripping Sam's legs tightly to try and stop their thrashing.

Dean had both arms wrapped around Sam's torso, pinning his sibling's arms to his sides so he couldn't stop the cries that were coming from his brother.

"Shhh," Dean soothed, his heart beating frantically, "It's okay. I've got ya. Shhh."

The door to the conference room opened and a startled-looking officer poked his head in, "What's going on?"

Hotchner snapped into action, "epileptic fit," he said and slammed the door shut.

A horribly long two minutes passed before Sam quieted, leaning heavily against Dean's chest, confused and shaking.

Morgan backed away, keeping a wary eye on the two Winchesters.

No one moved until Dean was able to help Sam up and back into his chair, the younger man slumping over, one hand resting on his brow to keep his head up.

The eldest Winchester looked at the alarmed expressions of the agents.

"I don't suppose you'll believe Sam just had a seizure?"

No one replied, so Dean sighed.

"Can someone get him some water?"

JJ moved first, leaving the conference room and closing the door behind her.

"Sam was… hurt… by one of the fuckers we hunt," Dean explained, feeling the anger creep into his voice, "He was hurt bad and he gets… flashbacks sometimes…"

Rossi nodded, "I understand. I was in 'Nam. Saw my share of PTSD when I came back."

"Are you getting help for it?" Hotchner asked and Dean bit his lip before shaking his head.

JJ returned with a bottle of water, handing it to Dean before going to stand beside Emily.

Dean twisted the cap off the bottle and held the drink out to his brother.

"Here, Sammy."

The young man looked up and took the offered beverage, taking a couple of sips before setting it down.

"We can't," Dean continued, "Not many people know about monsters and if we went to the hospital, well…"

"You're afraid they'd take Sam to a mental health facility," Reid finished and Dean nodded.

No one said anything for a long minute.

"Why don't you go back to your motel?" Hotchner suggested, "Get some rest and we'll call when we have more information."

Dean wanted to protest but then he looked down at Sam. His brother needed to sleep.

"Okay," he stood and shook the Unit Chief's hand, "Thank you."

Silently, Dean gripped Sam's shoulder, and the younger man stood.

Without say another word, the Winchesters walked out of the police station, the eyes of the BAU team on them as they went.

SPN

Reid looked over at Morgan as the other agent sat down, sighing and running a hand over his shaved head.

"What the hell just happened?" the dark-skinned agent asked.

"I feel like my whole world's been turned upside down and inside out," JJ commented, wrapping her arms around her chest.

"How can you be so calm about this?" Emily asked Hotch and the senior agent looked surprised.

"You didn't even question what Dean said," JJ agreed, "Not once."

The Unit Chief ran a hand through his dark hair.

"I don't have any reason to question Dean."

Emily narrowed her eyes, "Uh huh, we'll believe that."

"Something must have happened to you," Reid guessed, "Didn't it?"

Hotch shook his head, "No, I just…"

"Aaron," Rossi spoke up, "I know that look. You've got a secret."

"Tell us," JJ suggested, "What was it?"

Hotchner's eyes darkened with sadness.

"I had a friend when I was younger, Tyler Flannigan," he began, "We played together all the time… for hours. We were neighbours."

The Unit Chief paused, trying to keep his emotions in check.

"It was December, just after Christmas, I remember because Tyler was so excited to get this new toboggan," he continued, smiling at the memory.

"He promised we could play with it the next day and I was so excited I couldn't sleep. I kept getting up to go look out my bedroom window at his- they faced each other- and I saw this… thing… I didn't know what it was. It looked like an old ratty blanket or something."

No one spoke. There was silence in the room as the agent told his story.

"It was floating in front of Tyler's window, hovering there. I… watched it open his window and slip inside."

JJ put her hand up to her mouth in shock.

"I was scared so I ran to my bed and pulled the covers over my head. I tried to tell myself that I had just imagined it. The next morning though, when I went to Tyler's, his parents said he was too sick to play."

Hotch sucked in a shaky breath, his normally calm demeanor cracking.

"I went home and played with Sean instead. The next day when I went back to Tyler's, his parents said he was in the hospital."

The man stopped for a long moment, saying nothing.

"He never did recover," he finished, "He slipped into a coma and died. None of the doctors could explain it."

"Oh Hotch," Emily said sadly.

"That's not the worst thing," the agent said, "His little sister came down with the same thing and passed as well. After that we moved away. I think my parents were afraid."

Hotchner looked up, "I don't know how I knew but I was always certain that thing I'd seen that night was responsible for Tyler's death. I never said anything though, who'd believe me?"

The rest of the team looked at their leader with sad, sympathetic expressions.

"I… think something happened to my sister," JJ spoke up, shocking everyone.

They all knew that the blonde agent's sibling had committed suicide but no one had ever asked about it out of respect for JJ's privacy.

W

The next few hours the team members spent telling stories of their experiences with the supernatural. It was astonishing how close each of them had come to the Winchester's hidden world without even knowing it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from a Green Day song.


	9. The Lion And The Wolf

Sam flopped down onto the bed, eyes half-open as he stared at Dean as he moved around the motel room.

"I'm not mad at you," Dean assured him, "It's not your fault."

"You just picked a hell of a time to have a flashback," Dean finished, smiling at his brother.

Sam returned the gesture, the sleeping pills Dean had just given him already starting to work.

"That's it, Sammy," Dean encouraged, "Close your eyes and get some sleep. You'll feel better when you wake up."

Sam's only reply was a quiet grunt. Dean smiled, glad that his sibling was resting.

W

Agent Valente stepped off the small plane and onto the tarmac. It shouldn't take him long to locate the Winchesters, not if they were working with that team from the BAU. The Leviathan began to salivate in anticipation.

He took his cell phone from his pocket as he walked towards the small, converted warehouse that served as Miller's Falls' airport.

"I've arrived," Valente told Roman, "Soon the Winchesters will be gone."

"No," Roman replied, startling his lackey, "I want you to capture them. Alive. And bring them to me."

"But…" Valente whined, "I thought you said-"

"I know what I said! Are you questioning me?!"

Valente gulped and loosened his tie nervously, "No Sir, of course not."

"Good," Roman murmured, "If they put up a fight, which they probably will, you can have a snack but I want them conscious when they arrive. I want to hear them beg for mercy before I'm through with them."

"Yes Sir," Valente said, "No killing. Maiming is okay."

"Don't disappoint me," Roman warned and ended the call.

The Leviathan sighed; he definitely did not want to get 'bibbed'. He couldn't fuck up again.

SPN

The team went back to their hotel to rest until Garcia called with more information. It had been a long couple of days and with the revelation brought upon them by the Winchesters the agents were more than willing to take a break.

Morgan sat down on his bed and looked up at Reid, a troubled expression on the younger man's face.

"You okay, Kid?" he asked the young doctor.

"Oh, yeah," Reid replied, "I was just thinking about Sam."

Morgan nodded, "Poor guy. That's rough."

"I wonder what happened to him," Reid mused, talking mostly to himself.

The dark-skinned agent shrugged, "Dean said he was hurt-"

Reid interrupted, "But to have a reaction like that? Something really bad must have happened."

Morgan already knew where this was going. Once Reid got something in his head he wouldn't let it drop.

"So what if it did? Dean probably had a good reason for not describing every detail of it to us."

Reid stared at his friend, startled and embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, Morgan, I didn't mean-" the doctor apologized; clearly thinking of the secrets the dark-skinned agent had kept from his team, his family.

Morgan's expression softened, "Don't sweat it, Kid. I know you're curious but if they wanted us to know, Dean and Sam would have told us."

Reid nodded and ran a hand over his face, exhausted.

"I won't ask," he promised and Morgan smiled.

"Let's just get some sleep," he said, slipping his shoes off, "Hopefully Garcia will have good news when we wake up."

SPN

Agent Valente shook Chief Gabraldo's offered hand, smiling.

"I didn't get a call saying Quantico was sending more agents," the officer told him.

"The Director wanted me here ASAP," Valente told the man, "Do you have any suspects yet?"

"No, Agent Hotchner hasn't said anything," Gabraldo confessed.

"Speaking of," Valente peered around the bustling station, "Where is the team?"

"They went to get some rest," Gabraldo explained, "But you're welcome to look at what they have set up if you want."

Valente nodded, "I might just."

W

The Leviathan's eyes followed Leon Gabraldo's retreating back as the man finally went for a cigarette break.

He had been in the conference room for two hours, staring at the information the BAU team had collected on the murders, pretending to read but really thinking about the Winchesters.

They had to be close by. He wondered if they were with the agents right now. He couldn't wait to get his hands on them.

Stepping from the room and closing the door, Valente followed the Chief as he walked out the back door of the station.

"Oh! Agent," Gabraldo exclaimed as Valente appeared and took a cursory glance at the alley the station backed onto, "Want a light?"

Valente frowned, "I don't smoke. It causes lung cancer."

The police chief shrugged. He stared tiredly out at the rusted green dumpster across from the door, old cigarette butts littered the pavement. The two were completely alone.

"What do you make of it?" Gabraldo asked, taking a cigarette from the pack in his pocket and bringing his lighter up.

"Lunch," Valente said, his smile stretching wide.

SPN

Dean sat up, slightly groggy when his phone rang, trilling out the familiar chords to 'Smoke on the Water'. The grey shadows inside the motel room told the hunter that it was evening. He must have fallen asleep shortly after Sam had.

Running a hand through his short-cropped hair, Dean grabbed his phone and flipped it open.

"Yeah?" he asked tiredly, blinking the sleep from his eyes.

"Can you and Sam meet us at the station? There's been another murder," Agent Hotchner said seriously and Dean frowned.

How the hell had the man got Dean's cell phone number?

Never mind, he didn't want to know.

"Uh… sure. Give us twenty minutes," Dean replied, the thrill of the hunt suddenly sending adrenaline through his veins, waking him up.

The FBI agent ended the call and Dean swore out loud. Setting his phone on the bed, Dean stood and stretched, glancing across to where Sam lay sleeping soundly. Dean quickly dressed in his best suit, stuffing his fake FBI badge into his pocket and slipped on his dress shoes before going over to his brother.

"Sammy?" he called, touching Sam lightly on the shoulder.

The younger man lifted his head and blinked through his bangs, "D'n?"

"Hey," Dean smiled, "You gotta get up, okay?"

Sam pulled himself up on his elbows, "Whattimsit?"

Dean checked his watch, "Six oh-ten."

Sam groaned and flopped back down on the bed.

"Sam," Dean prodded, "C'mon man. Agent Hotchner just called."

The younger man sat up in a panic. Swiping hair away from his face, he took in his older brother's attire and swore.

Sam dressed in record time. Dean waited for him in the car, jacking the volume on the radio as Quiet Riot's 'Trouble' came on when Sam dropped down into the passenger's seat, startling him slightly.

Without a word Dean turned the key in the ignition and started off towards the police station.

SPN

Hotch walked over to the silver 2011 Ford Focus the Winchesters were driving, finding it hard to keep an eyebrow from rising at the sight of the vehicle.

Dean, for his part, noticed the agent's expression and shrugged, clearly not too happy with the car either.

"Do you want to follow us to the scene?" Hotch asked and Dean nodded, already backing the car up.

Climbing into the driver's seat of the Bureau-issued SUV, Aaron pulled out of the parking lot, Rossi sitting beside him in the passenger's seat.

"How much longer is this going to go on, Aaron?" the older agent asked, "Strauss won't be able to keep us on this case for much longer."

Hotch sighed, "I know. Hopefully Garcia calls us soon."

Rossi nodded, "What if she doesn't? What if we get kicked off the case?"

"Then we do. We can't argue with the Director if we're in a stalemate here."

"And the Winchesters?" Rossi asked, peering at the rearview mirror to see the Ford following behind them.

"We'll make sure they're far away from here," Aaron said and he glanced at Dave from the corner of his eye, seeing that Rossi was smiling.

SPN

Dean lifted up the edge of the blue tarp covering the remains of Black Annis' latest victim.

Searching the pavement around the body, the hunter saw nothing suspicious, not even a footprint to lead them in the right direction.

Sighing, Dean straightened up and walked over to agents Hotchner and Rossi.

"Anything?" David asked and Dean shook his head, "Nothing."

Hotch rubbed his chin, "There's very little blood, just like the other victims. She is obviously killing them somewhere else and dumping their bodies."

Dean raked a hand through his hair, trying to think, "Maybe we should look at abandoned buildings- houses, factories, that sort of thing. Monsters usually like to hole-up in those sorts of places."

Rossi nodded, "It'll be a start anyway."

Hotch took out his phone to place the request to Garcia.

Dean's gaze traveled to where his brother was standing; Sam had a notepad and pen out, poised as if ready to write but he was not moving. He was staring at the shrouded body on the ground.

"Sammy," Dean said and cringed when the younger man jumped, "Oh, Dean, I-"

"How're you feeling?" the older brother asked, taking note of how pale his sibling's face was.

"Okay, just… I want this case to be over," Sam said, pinching the bridge of his nose with the hand holding the pen.

"Why don't you take a break? Go sit in the car or something?" Dean suggested and Sam shot him a grateful look before retreating.

Dean looked over to where the Unit Chief was now speaking with an officer, their conversation clearly serious.

Walking over, Dean greeted the police chief.

"Agent Rhoads," he pulled out his fake badge, pointedly not looking at Hotchner, "And my partner, Agent Reznor are here helping out SSA Hotchner."

Chief Gabraldo shook Dean's hand and smiled, "Glad to know the FBI is on top of this."

Dean smiled back and turned to Hotchner.

"Garcia is looking into abandoned buildings," he told the hunter, "We'll have a list in no time."

Chief Gabraldo clapped Hotchner on the shoulder, "Keep up the good work, gentlemen."

Dean's gaze followed the policeman until the FBI agent cleared his throat.

"Federal agents?" Hotchner asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Dean smirked, "How are we supposed to introduce to introduce ourselves? As hunters? 'Cause that wouldn't get us locked up on the spot."

The Unit Chief just shook his head.

"Besides," Dean commented before turning to go check on his brother, "Impersonating federal officers are the least of the crimes Sammy and I are wanted for."

SPN

Sam was leaning forward in the passenger's seat, head in his hands as Lucifer taunted him.

Reaching over with a shaking hand, Sam turned the car on and jabbed the button for the radio with his index finger.

"That's not going to help, Sammy!" Lucifer lifted his voice to be heard over the music.

The young man gritted his teeth together, jaw clenched so tight that it ached.

Suddenly there was silence in the car and Sam looked up, confused. He pressed the button for the radio again but nothing happened. Turning in his seat he stared at the Devil's smug expression, his blue eyes as cold as ice.

…Adam gripped Sam's arm tightly, the young man's eyes filled with terror.

"Sam, get up," he urged tugging on the hunter's sleeve, "We have to go."

Sam nodded and tried to get to his feet, only to sink back down onto the ground. He was too weak to move.

"Sam!" Adam begged, "They're coming!"

The hunter pried the teen's hand away from his arm, "You go."

"What? No!" Adam protested, grabbing Sam's arm again and trying to pull him up, "You're coming with me!"

Sam shook his head, "Not this time."

Adam released his grip on Sam and stared at him instead, his blue eyes swimming with tears.

"Please," the young man begged.

Sam shoved his brother as hard as he could, "Go! I'll distract them."

"You can't-" Adam protested, tears leaving streaks down his grimy face.

"Isn't this touching?" Lucifer mocked as he and Michael appeared before the humans.

Sam turned to face the two angels, ignoring his brother's protests.

"Run away, Adam," Sam said quietly but the younger man didn't move.

"You want to hurt someone, hurt me," Sam goaded the angels, "Leave him alone."

The angels approached and although Sam's heart jackhammered with fear, he didn't move.

He almost smiled when he heard Adam backing away, his fear greater than his desire to stay with his brother.

The angels grabbed Sam roughly, pulling him up. The young man closed his eyes, happy that Adam was safe; at least for a little while.

"Sam!" the younger man called out, and Sam turned his head to see Adam sitting on the ground, one arm outstretched helplessly towards him.

"It's okay, Adam!" Sam called back, "It'll be okay."

But that was a lie and they both knew it. Nothing was ever going to be okay again.

"Sam! SAM!"

Tears welled up in the hunter's eyes and began dripping down his face; he wished he could do more to keep his brother safe, he wished Adam had never been dragged into all of this shit.

"SAM!"

"SAM!"

Sam blinked and stared into Dean's worried face.

"D'n," Sam muttered and grabbed his brother's shirt.

"Sam, what-" the older brother began but stopped when his sibling buried his face in his shirt and started crying.

Dean didn't say anything more, just climbed bodily into the driver's seat and closed the door. He wrapped an arm around Sam's shaking frame and tried to comfort him as best he could.

Sam pressed his face against Dean's chest, seeking the reassurance of his older brother's solid frame, the feeling of his heart beating strongly in his chest and his lungs rising and falling with each breath he took.

Snot dribbled from Sam's nose and tears streamed from his bloodshot eyes but he didn't care.

"Sammy," Dean murmured, rubbing his back, "It's okay, Sam. It'll be okay."

The words however, didn't comfort the younger man as Dean had intended. Sam only started crying harder.

"Sam, c'mon," Dean tried again, "We gotta get out of here. People are gonna wonder what's going on in here."

Sam lifted his head and raised one hand, wiping snot and tears away from his face.

"We'll go back to the room, okay?" Dean offered and Sam nodded, still shaken.

SPN

Dean's heart clenched in his chest every time he glanced at his brother from the corner of his eye. Sam slumped in the seat beside him, bangs damp with sweat, his face pale. Sam's cheeks were red and tear-stained, he had dried snot on his upper lip and he was trembling like a leaf.

I should have told him to stay in the motel, Dean thought guiltily; I never should have brought him alone.

What the fuck was I thinking?

I wasn't thinking. That's what.

Dean pulled the car into the spot in front of the motel room and turned off the engine, pocketing the keys.

He didn't move for a long moment and neither did Sam, both brothers listening to the tick of cooling metal.

Dean got out of the car first, wanting only the privacy of the motel room. He had the door to the room open and waiting before Sam even exited the vehicle.

Dean frowned as his sibling walked the short distance to the doorway, his footsteps slow, his feet dragging, head down.

Once Sam was inside, Dean closed and locked the door, turning to his sibling concernedly.

"If you don't want to talk, that's alright with me-" he began but Sam interrupted him.

The younger man dropped onto the edge of the bed closest to the door, hands clasped before him as though in prayer.

"It's my fault," Sam mumbled softly, his voice wrought with guilt.

Dean stepped forward, confused.

"What is, Sammy?"

Sam's breath hitched and Dean knew he had started to cry again.

"A-Adam," he stammered, "It's m-my fault he's in H-Hell."

Dean crossed the room to sit on the bed beside his brother, "No it's not."

Sam nodded his head, his shoulders shaking.

"Sam, look at me," Dean said and lifted his brother's chin, "From what I saw it was Michael's fault. He was the one who tried to pull you back."

Sam's green eyes were filling with tears, the moisture overflowing down his cheeks.

"You did what you could," Dean told his brother, hoping to take away some of the guilt Sam felt.

The younger man shook his head and leaned against his older sibling, face against Dean's chest.

Dean stared up at the ceiling and wrapped around his brother's broad shoulders.

"I c-couldn't protect him," Sam whispered quietly, so quietly Dean almost couldn't hear him, "Nuh-Not all the t-time."

Dean said nothing. If Sam needed to talk, he wasn't going to stop him.

"Muh-Most of the time they'd c-come after me…"

Dean closed his eyes and held his sibling tighter.

"I w-was the one th-they hated… I was the o-one who'd screw up their d-destiny…"

Sam's breath hitched again and Dean felt warm wetness seep through his dress shirt as fresh tears began to fall.

"I c-couldn't let them h-hurt Adam," Sam continued, "He'd d-done nothing."

The slamming of a car door startled Dean but he relaxed when he realized it was only one of their neighbours.

"They'd hu-hurt me," Sam whimpered and reached up to grab the lapels of Dean's suit jacket, "A-And I le-let them b-because they l-left Adam alone."

Dean felt a lump form painfully in his throat and tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

"S-Sometimes… they w-would h-hurt Adam," Sam continued, "Th-They'd make me w-watch and I c-couldn't do a-anything t-t-to stop them."

Dean's heart broke for his brother. It must have been horrible in the Cage, tortured by two furious angels but not as bad as having to witness a loved one tortured before your own eyes, unable to do anything to stop their agony.

"I l-left him th-there," Sam lamented and Dean tensed up.

He grabbed Sam's shoulders and pulled his brother up to face him.

"You didn't leave Adam, Sammy," Dean told his sibling, shaking him slightly, "You didn't abandon him.  
Sam peered at Dean through wet, red-rimmed eyes, disbelief etched in his features.

"It was me, Sam," Dean confessed, "I was the one who chose to save you."

The devastated look on Sam's face made Dean want to stop right there but he couldn't.

"Death said I could only bring one of you back, and, damn it, I chose you."

Sam pulled away from Dean, staring at him as if he was a stranger.

"Why?" he asked, "Why w-would you do that?"

"Because you're my brother," Dean answered lamely. He shouldn't have said anything. He should have kept his mouth shut.

"A-Adam's your brother too!" Sam exclaimed, "He was innocent!"

Dean felt anger bubbled up in his chest, "So what? He deserved to be saved and you didn't?"

Sam stumbled up, swaying dangerously as he stood, "Yes!"

Dean stood as well, mostly so he'd be ready to catch Sam if he fell.

"I made you promise, Dean!" Sam cried, his expression turning angry as well, "I told you not to save me!"

Dean's eyes filled with tears of fury, "I couldn't leave you, Sam! I knew what Hell was like and I couldn't leave you down there!"

Sam's expression crumbled, "It's less than I deserve."

Dean's eyes overflowed and tears dripped down his face.

"Sammy-" he began but his brother turned away from him.

"Sam," Dean tried again, laying a hand on Sam's shoulder.

The younger man didn't turn around but spoke, "I-I'm a f-failure. I d-don't deserve to be s-saved."

Dean sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm himself, "Who told you that? Huh?"

Sam didn't reply but hunched his shoulders protectively.

"Who, Sam? Who told you that?" Dean demanded.

"Th-they did."

Dean's eyebrows knitted together in confusion for a moment before he frowned, "Who? Michael and Lucifer?"

Sam nodded once.

Dean whirled his brother around and wrapped him in a tight embrace, squeezing as hard as he could as though somehow he could force all of the awful memories of Hell from his sibling.

"Don't you ever- ever- listen to them, Sam. You are not a failure. You don't deserve to be punished for what you did."

Sam melted into the embrace, clinging to Dean like a drowning man to a Life Preserver.

"I- I'm s-sorry, Dean," Sam cried but the older brother shook his head.

"Don't. Don't apologize, Sammy," he told his sibling.

Dean waited until his brother moved first, stepping away and wiping his face.

"Are you okay now?" Dean asked and Sam nodded, taking a shaky breath.

"Alright," Dean said, relieved.

"Dean-" Sam began but his brother interrupted him, "Do me a favour? If you ever feel like you did just now, tell me? Okay? We'll get through it together."

Sam nodded and wiped his nose on the back of his hand.

"I… I think I'm g-gonna go take a shower," he said softly and Dean smiled, "Go for it."

Once Sam was in the bathroom, Dean sat down heavily on the edge of the bed.

Running a shaking hand through his hair, the eldest Winchester closed his eyes and shoved all the feelings- guilt, anger, sadness- down to be dealt with at a later time.

With Sam so emotionally unstable right now, Dean didn't have time to focus on what he was feeling. He needed to be there for his sibling, not wallowing in his own issues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from a Thrice song.


	10. When Two Worlds Collide

As soon as Sam stepped out of the bathroom, Dean intercepted him.

"I'm going to go and get us some oak to make stakes," he said before Sam could protest, "I shouldn't be long."

The younger man turned his 'puppy eyes' on but Dean ignored them.

"Try and get some rest while I'm out, Sammy," Dean instructed his brother, "Agent Hotchner has his Technical Analyst looking for abandoned buildings this hag might be hiding in and we could get the call anytime."

Dean hated telling his brother what to do: go to sleep, get some rest, eat more, eat anything, etc.

But Sam needed it; Dean wouldn't be on his brother's case if it were otherwise.

"O-Okay," Sam relented without putting up a fight.

"Take a couple of those sleeping pills if that'll help," Dean suggested, his tone now less authoritative.

Sam nodded and set his folded FBI suit on his duffel bag. He brushed his still-damp bangs away from his face and Dean felt his brother's eyes on him.

Dean knew Sam felt useless. He didn't blame him, he would feel the same way if their positions were reversed but he needed Sam as sharp as possible when they went to go kill Black Annis, despite the FBI backup.

Dean wasn't stupid. He knew Aaron Hotchner, if not the other agents, would demand to help them kill the hag. And Dean would let them. They knew their way around human monsters so the real thing shouldn't be too different.

The older brother closed the door to the motel and sighed, wishing he could do something more to help his sibling than be breathing down his neck all the time.

Deciding it was no use worrying about at the moment, Dean took the car keys from his pocket and unlocked the door of the Ford.

SPN

Sam sat down on his bed and picked up the bottle of sleeping pills that was sitting on the nightstand between the beds. The young man's shoulders hunched protectively and rubbed a hand over his face. He was exhausted, both physically and mentally, and looked forward to the dreamless sleep the pills would provide.

Looking up, Sam was not surprised to see Lucifer sitting across from him on Dean's bed.

Defiantly, the young man opened the bottle of sleeping pills, shook two out onto his palm and swallowed them without bothering to wash them down with water.

SPN

The team returned to the police station to await word from Garcia.

"How are we going to explain this when we get back to Quantico?" JJ asked quietly after the door to the glass-walled conference room was closed tightly.

"We'll think of something," Hotchner to the team, sounding more confident than he looked.

The agents looked up when the door opened and Chief Gabraldo poked his head into the room.

"I was just wondering…" the police chief began but paused, "Where are Agents Rhoads and Reznor?"

"Still at the crime scene," Rossi lied.

"Oh," Chief Gabraldo replied, "Will they be returning soon?"

"If they find anything useful," Hotchner spoke up, "Is there anything you wanted?"

"I was just wondering if you were any closer to killing this bastard," Gabraldo said, "I mean, you've got another two agents on the case and this psycho's still out there."

"Agents Rhoads and Reznor only just arrived today," Hotchner explained, "But I assure you we are doing everything we can to find the unsub."

The Chief nodded, "My men are always at your disposal Agent Hotchner, they know this city best."

Aaron told the police officer that they would let them assist when they found the murderer but until then they would have to wait, just as the agents themselves were doing.

Turning back to his team members, the Unit Chief grabbed his phone from his pocket when it began ringing. Putting the device on Speaker when he saw that it was Penelope calling, Aaron greeted the Technical Analyst.

"Please tell us you've found something, Garcia."

"Oh yes, my lovelies, Miller's Falls is full of abandoned warehouses," the woman chirped, sounding proud of herself.

"Reid," Hotch called, "Can you mark them buildings on the map?"

The young agent obediently went to the map taped to one of the conference room's glass walls and picked up a yellow highlighter.

"There's quite a few," Garcia told them, "the town seems to be suffering from the recession just as much as any other-"

"List off the addresses for us, Baby Girl," Morgan spoke up and Garcia began going down the list she had compiled.

JJ moved over towards Reid and watched as the other agent quickly circled the addresses on the map that housed abandoned buildings from factories and warehouses to residences.

"Guys," JJ abruptly noticed something particular about the crime scenes and one address specifically, "I think we need to go to Bower Street."

The team turned and stared at the map. Bower Street was in the center of all the scenes where the victims' bodies had been discovered.

"What is it? Is it something good?" Garcia's voice asked curiously from the phone's speaker.

"You're a genius," Morgan told her, "We might have found where this thing is hiding."

"Oh… that's good," the Technical Analyst answered, sounding less confident.

"Don't worry," Morgan assured her, "We're working with the best when it comes to monsters."

"I just wish I felt as confident about this as you," Garcia answered, "I mean you don't even really know them, do-"

"Don't start again," Morgan replied, "It'll be okay. I promise."

The dark-skinned agent looked up, startled when Garcia ended the call and the phone went dead.

"Derek, can you call the Winchesters? We should get this finished as soon as possible," Hotch instructed.

The rest of the team all looked to him, their faces now showing nerves.

"Think of this as any other case," the Unit Chief told his friends.

"Any other case and we'd be head to head with a human with a gun or a knife," Prentiss commented sarcastically, "Not some monster who skins people and eats their organs."

SPN

Dean was just dumping an armload of oak branches into the trunk of his rental vehicle when his phone began trilling out the chords to 'Smoke on the Water' in his pocket.

Closing the Ford's trunk, with one hand, Dean fished his cell out with the other and answered it.

"Yes?" He answered, without checking the caller ID.

"Dean, we think we've found where your monster is hiding," Derek Morgan's voice said, "Can you and Sam meet us at the Police Station."

Dean sighed and raised his eyes skyward, "We can but the weapons are not exactly ready-"

"What weapons?" the agent asked, sounding slightly suspicious.

"Guns aren't going to stop this thing," Dean told the man, "The only way to kill Black Annis is to stab her with oak stakes."

"Any other day that would be weird," Morgan commented, "Can we help at all? What do we need to do?"

"I have the branches," Dean told him, "They need to be sharpened into stakes."

"Okay, well, we'll help," the agent said, "The more the merrier."

Dean smirked.

"Is there someplace we can meet you?" Morgan asked, "I'd look pretty odd having a team of FBI agents piles of cordwood into the station."

"Yeah," Dean answered, "Sure, why don't you come to the motel?"

The hunter told the agent the name of the motel he and his brother were staying at and ended the call. He climbed into the car and headed towards the motel.

SPN

Sam was asleep when Dean opened the front door and although he was loath to wake his sibling, Dean needed his help with the stakes.

Crossing the room, Dean reached out and touched his brother's shoulder.

"Hey," he said quietly, "Wake up, buddy."

Sam's eyes opened slowly, groggily, and looked up. Dean's heart clenched when he saw trepidation bloom on Sam face.

"It's just me, Sammy," Dean assured his brother, "The real me."

Sam sat up and brushed his bangs away from his forehead, "Did you get the wood we need?"

"Yeah," Dean told him, "And the Feds found a building that looks promising."

Sam looked up, "That's good, isn't it?"

Dean nodded, "Yeah, yeah it is. But we're not ready to take this bitch down yet. The team is coming here to help us prepare… and we'll prepare them."

SPN

Morgan wrinkled his nose as he pulled the black SUV into the motel parking lot. The place was somewhat dilapidated- old- and in dire need of a renovation.

"And I thought the Bureau had us staying at the cheapest places in town," Rossi commented from beside him.

Cutting the engine, Morgan stepped from the vehicle, followed by Dave, Emily, and Reid who had squished into the backseat. Aaron and JJ were still at the Police Station, placating Chief Gabraldo for the time being until the rest of the team- and the Winchesters- were ready to take down the monster.

The four agents crossed the cracked parking lot and Morgan knocked on the door of Dean and Sam's motel room. A moment passed before the door opened and they were admitted. Dean greeted the agents self-consciously- which surprised Morgan- and the Feds stepped into the small room. Derek saw Sam was sitting at the table, using a rather large knife to sharpen a long stake of wood.

"Come on in," Dean said and closed the door behind the agents, "Grab a knife and let's get this party started."

Morgan stepped forward and picked a blade from one of the open duffel bags.

"Are you sure these will kill the monster?" Emily asked, pulling her long black hair into a knot at the back of her head.

Dean looked to his brother and Sam nodded grimly.

Morgan grabbed one of the branches and sat down on the edge of one of the beds.

Soon all four agents and the two hunters were working silently and steadily, focusing only on readying themselves for the coming battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from an Iron Maiden song.


	11. This Day We Fight!

Sharpening an oak branch into a stake to use against a monster- a real monster- that was killing innocent people in Miller's Falls, Pennsylvania had to be the strangest thing Reid had ever done.

"Have you ever hunted anything like this before?" He asked the brothers concernedly.

"Nope," Dean replied, holding his own stake up to examine it.

"You seem pretty confident," Emily commented.

Dean smiled, "We're professionals, Sweetheart. Name it and we'll kill it. Right, Sammy?"

Sam, focusing intently on his own stake, nodded but didn't speak.

Reid saw the older brother's grin turn to a frown.

"You okay, Sammy?" he asked, not caring if the agents overheard; after Sam's episode in the conference room what would be the point?

The younger sibling looked up and smiled, "Yeah… fine."

Dean nodded as though that answer made everything right and continued sharpening his own stake.

SPN

"Are you sure you can do this?" Dean asked as he and Sam followed the agent's black SUV towards the address their Technical Analyst had given them. Agents Hotchner and Jareau would meet them at the building- an old paper factory- along with officers from the local police station.

"I'm okay, Dean," Sam assured his brother, "Really. I'd tell you if I didn't think I could do it."

Dean nodded, still not looking completely convinced.

"Are you seeing you-know-who?" he couldn't help but asking and Sam shook his head.

"No, thank God," he replied, sounding incredibly relieved.

"Just let me know if you start feeling… I don't know, like your back there again, okay? If you can, I mean. Or if that asshole comes back?" Dean asked; he didn't want Sam's hallucinations to interfere with this hunt and put not only himself but also the Federal Agents in danger.

Sam nodded grimly, "I promise."

Dean reached out with his right hand and squeezed Sam's left shoulder comfortingly for a moment.

SPN

Morgan had never felt like this before while on a case. Sure he'd been scared, who wouldn't? But he'd always been able to push any fear he was feeling to the back of his mind and concentrate on his job; saving people and putting the unsub away.

Now though, the fear kept creeping up on him, refusing to be swept aside.

Morgan told himself to treat this just as another case but the oak stake in his hands belied the truth. This wasn't just another case, this was completely different. The monster wasn't just an ordinary man or woman this time. The monster couldn't be locked behind bars or killed with a bullet.

Trust Dean, Morgan thought, he knows what he's doing.

Emily, sitting beside him in the backseat, looked over at the dark-skinned agent, "We can do this."

Morgan smiled and let out a breath, nodding.

Although the Winchesters had never before hunted a hag, they had gathered enough information about Black Annis to be sure they knew just how to proceed with stopping her. An oak stake- like the ones the agents held now- thrust into the heart was her bane.

The only problem was getting close enough to the hag to be able to deal the killing blow. Sam had told them that Black Annis had iron claws, which she used to skin her victims, but would also use as weapons against the agents and the hunters. Also, she would have preternatural reflexes and be much faster than any human foe the team had gone up against.

Dean and Sam were going to take point, as they were the most familiar with this kind of threat, with the agents fanning out behind them in case the hag got past them. Morgan hadn't really liked the idea of the two brothers taking the brunt of the attack- if it came to that- but Dean had assured him that they had done this more times than he could count, a with a lot less back up. Another concern of Morgan's- and he felt bad for admitting it- was Sam. If the young man had another seizure like the one he had had at the police station, he'd be left vulnerable and defenseless. Dean though had seemed to take this into consideration also and had decided that if Sam did pitch another fit, Reid would stay with him. Spencer hadn't argued at being volunteered to watch the younger Winchester should he need it. He seemed pleased to actually have gained Dean's trust enough to be the one chosen to protect Sam should the worst happen. Morgan, as well, thought Reid was a good choice. The youngest member of their team was unafraid of confrontation with human unsubs if the situation called for it and Morgan knew he would do everything he could to keep the hunter safe.

W

Morgan climbed from the SUV- Emily, Rossi and Spencer following him- and stared up at the dilapidated paper factory.

Hotchner and JJ exited the second SUV and approached them, the Winchesters following.

Dean handed the blonde and the Unit Chief their own stakes, ignoring the looks the police officers were giving them and asked if the agents were clear on what was going to happen.

"One second," Aaron said and made his way back to the SUV he had just climbed out of.

Morgan saw Dean's eyebrows raise in confusion but then the hunter smiled when he saw the agent pull two dark blue Kevlar vests with the acronym 'FBI' on the back in white, from the vehicle.

"I know you forgot yours at the Bureau and we had a couple of extras with us," Aaron said and held the vests out to Sam and Dean.

Morgan smiled as Dean proudly shrugged his vest on, looking like a kid at Christmas. Once both brothers had donned their vests, Dean took the lead.

"Alright," he announced to the agents as though he was the Unit Chief and not Hotch, "We go in just as I've planned. Keep your eyes and ears sharp. If you see anything that's not one of us, kill it."

The agents all nodded in understanding, Morgan miraculously, was starting to feel better.

Dean turned to lead the way into the factory through its rusted front door- the chain that had been used to lock it now dangling limply to one side- when Chief Gabraldo approached.

"Are we not a part of this too?" the officer asked and Morgan saw Dean's shoulders tense.

Before the hunter could speak, Aaron stepped forwards, "Chief, I understand your desire to come with us, this is your city, your people dying, but we have jurisdiction."

Morgan raised his eyebrows, usually the local police officers were allowed to participate in the capture of an unsub; very rarely had Aaron ever had to pull out the 'We're Feds So Get Out Of Our Way' card.

Gabraldo frowned and opened his mouth but Aaron cut him off, "If we need help we will radio for it."

The police chief seemed to be weighing his options and decided he didn't want to get into an argument with the agent and stepped aside.

"Be ready!" Dean called to the assembled men and women of the Miller's Falls police force, "We'll radio you!"

Morgan took a deep breath, clutching the stake in his fist, and followed the Winchesters into the factory where a real monster was hiding.

SPN

The Leviathan watched the Winchesters lead the federal agents into the old abandoned factory and fumed. He needed to get to the hunters! But he knew it would be foolish to try and take them while they were with the team from the BAU. Dick Roman wanted Sam and Dean alive and the only way Valente- now Gabraldo- was going to get them that way was if they were alone.

If his boss only wanted the brothers' heads as proof that they were dead, it would be so easy for the Leviathan to kill them while they were hunting the hag. He might even have had the FBI agents too, as a little celebration snack for a job well done.

Now though, he was forced to wait outside with the human police officers and wait for word that all was clear- or that the hunters and agents needed help.

The Leviathan found himself hoping that the Winchesters were as good hunters as they seemed. He was sure to get 'bibbed' if he came back to Roman empty-handed, explaining that the brothers had been killed- on his watch nonetheless- by a monster as pathetic as a hag.

"Should we go after them?" an officer asked, looking to Gabraldo for an answer.

The Leviathan shook its head, "No, we'll wait. Just like we were told."

The officer nodded but looked prepared to run into the building at a moment's notice.

Just be patient, the monster thought, once this is finished the agents will go back to Quantico and the Winchesters will be all alone.

Gabraldo grinned, imagining the promotion he'd receive when he handed the Winchesters over to Roman.

SPN

The interior of the factory was dark, the air inside warm and sticky and smelling strongly of paper and chemicals.

"Lights?" JJ hissed from the back of the pack but Dean shook his head.

The blonde agent could just see the shapes of her friends fanned our around her. Emily and Reid were on her right side- behind Sam- while Derek, Rossi and Aaron were on her left, behind Dean.

The older Winchester brother suddenly stopped and turned his head, apparently looking around.

"Split up," he said, "Sam and Spencer, Morgan and I, Rossi and Aaron, and Emily and Jennifer."

This wasn't really part of the plan, JJ knew, but with the size of the factory, they all couldn't afford to walk in a group as they were and hope to find the hag.

JJ and Emily moved forward, stakes ready and nerves on edge.

SPN

Morgan watched as Reid moved closer to Sam and the two younger men headed away, the hunter leading the agent.

"They'll be okay," Dean whispered beside him, "Sam knows what he's doing."

Morgan nodded. He was sure Sam Winchester knew exactly what to do but what was bothering him was the chance that he could have an episode. Although he knew Reid could protect himself- he had seen it before- he still didn't like having his friend out of his sight like this.

"I feel like I'm hunting for a vampire with this thing," Morgan joked, indicating the stake in his hands.

Dean smirked as though he had said something funny and stepped forward and let out a startled cry.

Morgan leaped forward and grabbed the hunter's arm, stopping the man from pitching into a large vat of stagnant water cut into the concrete floor of the factory.

Dean took a couple of steps back and crouched down, examining the vat and the three others beside it. They were all about the size of a swimming pool at the YMCA and there was no gate surrounding them to warn of the danger.

"Must have something to do with making paper," Dean muttered, "Better let the others know these are here so we don't have any accidents."

Morgan nodded and used his radio to let the others know to be carful of the vats.

The agent and the hunter sidestepped the vats and headed towards a staircase at the far end of the room.

"Up or down?" Morgan asked and Dean shrugged.

"Can you radio Reid?" he asked instead and Morgan did so.

"Sam? There's a staircase on the far side of the room, past the pool things… What do you think, would Annis be up or down?"

There was a moment's pause and then Sam answered: "She prefers caves so maybe try going down first."

"Great," Dean said and was about to step forward when Sam spoke again, "Hold on. Wait for us."

Although it was clear Dean was anxious to head down to the basement level, he didn't move. He was waiting for his brother.

"Should we let the others know?" Morgan asked and after thinking for a second, Dean nodded.

Morgan radioed the rest of his team members and told them where they were.

SPN

Sam did not like the dark. It was making him nervous. He kept his head though and pressed onward, telling himself that everything was all right.

Reid walked beside him, moving almost silently. Sam felt slightly better knowing that he wasn't alone. On normal hunts, when it was just him and Dean, staying together didn't make much sense and they often split up. Having someone by his side eased Sam's nerves somewhat.

Both agent and hunter jumped a little when Reid's radio squealed with static and Dean's spoke. Sam told him what he thought, that the hag would be likely to seek out a cool, dark space to hide, and then asked his brother to wait. Even though Sam knew Dean was probably chomping at the bit to get to the monster, it was always safer in numbers and there would be less of a chance of Black Annis escaping if there were more of them to attack her.

W

As soon as everyone was assembled at the staircase, Dean took the lead again, telling everyone to go back into the formation they had used earlier so that Sam and him were in the lead.

"How you doing?" Dean whispered to Sam as they made their way down the stairs side-by-side.

"Fine," Sam answered.

From down the stairwell came the sound of footsteps and the hunters froze, listening.

It could be Black Annis or it could be a homeless person.

The brothers listened carefully but the sound did not come again and Dean motioned to the agents to keep going.

Sam had just reached the bottom step with Dean coming up beside him, when something heavy slammed into his chest. He staggered back with a startled cry and heard Dean shout his name.

Glancing around, Sam could just barely make out the shape of his brother as he approached.

"Sam! You okay?"

Sam, breathing heavily, nodded, "Yeah… Yeah… I think we found the hag."

He heard Dean swear and then mutter to one of the agents. A beam of bright white light illuminated Sam. Morgan came forward, holding a flashlight. The hunter looked down and saw five slashes across his chest in the Kevlar vest he was wearing. Raising a hand, Sam pressed his fingers against one of the tears; Annis had nearly cut right through the fabric. A couple of centimeters deeper and Sam's chest would have been slashed.

More light began shining as the agents all turned their flashlights on. The basement seemed to be the same dimensions as the upper floor. Large metal tanks sat in the same spots as the vats of water upstairs, their tops hidden by the ceiling.

"Keep quiet!" Dean hissed, "And keep your eyes open."

The agents fanned out behind the hunters and slowly made their way across the floor.

Dean glanced at Sam but the younger man shook his head, indicating that he wasn't hurt.

Screeeeech.

Sam pressed his palms against his ears at the sound of metal scraping against metal, the agents and Dean performing the same action.

Sam lowered his hands and gripped his stake tightly, adrenaline pumping through his veins.

SPN

Aaron Hotchner had been wondering how they were going to find the hag in such a large factory. He didn't have to worry about finding it because apparently it had found them.

He'd heard Sam cry out and stumbling footsteps, fearing the worst, but was relieved to find the young man was unharmed by the hag's ambush.

Seeing the damage to the hunter's vest though, did not make the Unit Chief feel much better.

"Aaron!" Dean shouted and the man turned, dodging to the side when a flash of blue and brown rushed past him.

Aaron stared wide-eyed at Dean before putting the sleeve of his jacket against his nose as he caught a whiff of the smell the creature had hanging around her: the sickening stench of rotting flesh.

"Shit," Dean swore and suddenly ran off, following the hag.

"Dean!" Sam called but didn't follow, choosing instead to stay with the agents.

Aaron looked at the younger man and saw that his face was very pale but his eyes were bright and glassy. He wasn't sure if it was just a reaction from the adrenaline rush he was certain they were all having or if Sam was about to have another fit.

Footsteps running towards them set all the agents on edge. Dean appeared though, in the beam of Rossi's light and they all relaxed.

Panting, Dean wiped an arm across his brow.

"I found where she's been nesting," he spoke, direction the words to his brother.

"There's some moldy blankets and uh… skins, in a corner over there," Dean pointed, "And bones… lots of bones… some from animals I think."

Sam nodded, "Did you see another staircase over on that side?"

Dean shook his head, "No, I think there's only one."

"We should have someone there in case she slips past."

Both hunters looked up at the agents, expectantly.

"I'll do it," Aaron volunteered.

"Thanks man," Dean said and nodded.

"Me too," Rossi offered and Dean gave him the thumbs-up.

"Just be careful," the hunter warned them, "Those claws can slice through Kevlar."

SPN

Screeeeeech.

"Ah!" JJ clapped her hands to her ears and squeezed her eyes shut as the sound filled the air.

Schreeeeeech.

JJ ran forward, blindly searching for the others. The sound was very disorienting.

Footsteps moving towards her startled the blonde agent and she opened her eyes a little, "Emily?"

Through teary eyes, JJ saw a bluish-brownish figure moving towards her.

"Emily?"

SPN

Emily Prentiss lifted her head, eyes wide as a scream filled the room.

"JJ!" she shouted and ran towards the sound of the cry, hearing the others following.

The flashlight in Emily's hand swung around wildly, cutting through the darkness and giving momentary glimpses of the abandoned basement.

A flash of blonde hair on the floor caused the agent to stumble to a stop and cry out.

"JJ!"

The other female agent was lying sprawled in a puddle of blood, her Kevlar vest in shreds. Fearing the worst, Emily stumbled forward and knelt at her friend's side.

JJ's eyes were open and her mouth moved for a moment before any sound came out, "I… I think I got her as good as she got me."

Emily looked down and saw that although JJ's vest was torn, the blood was coming not from the other agent's chest, but from her arm.

"Is she alright?" Dean asked and Emily nodded.

"Can you get up?" Prentiss asked and helped her friend sit.

"I'll take her to Hotch and Rossi," Emily said and Dean nodded.

"Be careful," he said and Emily promised she would be.

SPN

Sam glanced down and saw blue spots on the concrete, illuminated by Reid's flashlight.

"Look!" he pointed, "I think Annis is injured."

Dean clapped him on the shoulder, "That's good."

Sam squinted in the darkness, trying to see better.

The two agents followed Sam and his brother as they moved forward, the spots of blue blood guiding them.

Sam's heart was jackhammering in his chest and sweat dripped down his face.

Now the hag would be even more dangerous, injured as she was.

Sam swallowed and kept moving forward.

SPN

Morgan could almost feel the tension in the air. This was it. The monster was hurt and it was now or never.

He and Reid walked behind the Winchesters, stepping lightly and quietly.

Suddenly Sam cried out and staggered sideways though apparently hadn't been touched.

"Sam!" Dean called and grabbed his brother's arm to keep him from falling over, "Sammy! No, not now."

Sam however, wasn't hearing his brother and his legs folded underneath him.

"Shit," Dean swore and Morgan raised his flashlight to illuminate the younger Winchester.

Sam's face was blank, his pupils large- even in the sudden brightness of the flashlight- and looked seconds away from falling over backwards.

"Sam," Dean said, gripping the sides of his brother's face, "Sammy, c'mon, come back."

"Dean," Reid said and the hunter looked up.

"He's gone," Dean said and Morgan felt a chill run up his spine at the words.

"Stay with him," Dean ordered Spencer, "If he tries to get up… don't let him. I don't care if you have to pin him to the floor but don't let him leave."

Reid nodded, eyes wide. He sat down beside Sam, touched his shoulder and murmuring his name.

"C'mon," Dean called to Morgan and the dark-skinned agent followed.

"Is he going to be okay?" he asked Dean and the hunter shrugged.

Footsteps rushing towards the two men from behind caused both Dean and Morgan to turn around, stakes ready.

"It's me!" Emily called and the two relaxed, "JJ's with Rossi and Hotch. I think she stabbed the hag."

"Yeah," Dean commented, "We know."

He pointed to the floor and the female agent used her flashlight to illuminate the spots of blood staining the floor.

"Where are Sam and Reid?" Emily asked, noticing only the two of them were left.

"Sam's not doing too hot," Dean said and Emily bit her lip, nodding, knowing that Reid was with him.

"Come on," Dean said, "I'm ready to finish this."

SPN

"Sam?" Reid said the young man's name and gently shook his shoulder, "Sam?"

The hunter didn't even blink. Reid didn't know if he'd be able to bring Sam out of his episode, as far as he knew, nothing could, not even Dean.

"Sam," Reid continued, "I don't know what happened to you and I don't know what you're seeing right now but we could really use your help."

Still no reaction from the hunter.

"Please," Reid said, "Please, there's a monster here and I'm afraid."

Sam, amazingly, blinked, looked at Reid, and spoke.

"A-Adam?"

SPN

Screeeeeech.

Dean forced himself to keep his hands down and run forward as the awful metal on metal sound filled the air again.

He had to kill this bitch and get back to his brother.

He caught sight of faint movement from up ahead and charged forward even faster.

He heard the pounding of feet behind him and was sure that Morgan and Prentiss were right on his tail.

Dean grinned when he saw a blur of blue coming towards him and he punched forward with his stake.

The sharpened piece of wood met resistance and Black Annis screamed. Dean jerked back to avoid the raking iron claws and released the stake.

Two flashlights suddenly shone on the hag and Dean heard Emily gag. The creature could have been human, almost. She looked like an elderly woman, naked except for a belt of dried skins hanging from her waist. Some of the skins were small and clearly from small animals- rats and chipmunks and rabbits- but there were also larger ones that dragged on the floor- sheep and… human- all of them crudely tanned. She had dark blue eyes and light blue skin, wisps of white hair clung to her scalp. Her fingers ended in long, metal claws instead of nails. JJ's stake protruded from the hag's stomach, while Dean's was stuck in her chest.

Black Annis staggered, her iron claws slicing through the oak stakes but she was unable to pull them out. The hag raised her head, hissed at the hunter and two agents from between blackened teeth and crumbled like she was made of ash.

Dean sagged, exhausted and relieved that the hunt was over.

"Oh my God," Emily muttered from behind him as the smell of burnt flesh wafted up from the pile of ashes on the floor and puked.

Dean was glad Sam wasn't here… which reminded him.

"Sammy!" Dean shouted and took off towards where he'd left Reid and his brother.

SPN

Adam, their brother who had died; the agent recalled.

Reid swallowed, "No, Sam. I'm Spencer, remember?"

The hunter looked at him and said the name again.

Reid looked into Sam's green eyes, saw the horrible haunted look in them and wondered if Adam's death was somehow connected to the monster Dean had said had hurt Sam.

Knowing that Morgan would be so angry with him if he found out what Reid was about to do, Spencer took a deep breath and whispered, "Yeah, Sam. It's Adam."

The relief on the hunter's face made Spencer's heart clench.

"Adam," Sam said again and reached out, slowly with one hand.

"Where are we?" Reid asked, now beginning the technique he and the other agents used to help victims and witnesses recall facts about crimes they may have missed.

Sam gripped Reid's hand tightly, as though holding on for dear life but didn't answer right away.

"Sam, where are we?" Reid repeated, his mouth dry with anticipation.

"Cage," Sam answered, his voice barely audible.

"A cage?" Reid asked, "Where is this cage?"

Sam, instead of speaking, tilted his head down.

Reid frowned; did that mean the cage was underground? In a basement?

"Where, Sam, where is this cage?" Reid insisted but Sam's reaction, his chin almost against his chest now, remained the same.

Okay, Reid thought. Maybe he doesn't know, never knew where the cage was.

"Who put you down there?" he asked.

Sam didn't respond in any way.

Thinking for a moment, Reid spoke again, "Who put us in the cage?"

Sam lifted his head, "Me."

Reid frowned. This wasn't making much sense.

"How? Sam, how did you put us in the cage?"

"Fell."

Alright… that didn't answer much but Reid would take it.

"Why are we down here?"

Sam's face scrunched up and he looked as though he was about to start crying, "Punish."

"Punish?" Reid repeated, "Punished for what?"

"Didn't let him win," Sam whimpered.

"Okay, Sam," Reid said in a soothing voice, "It's alright."

"Are there others?" Reid asked.

Sam nodded.

"Do you know them? How many are there?" the agent pressed.

The sound of footsteps approaching made Reid jump and he quickly asked, "Who is it, Sam? Who is down there?"

Sam's eyes widened and he gasped, yanking his hand from Reid's grasp and cried, "NO! Please! No! Don't! Don't hurt me!"

"SAMMY!" Dean's voice called and Reid saw the older brother rush to Sam's side.

The younger sibling twisted in Dean's grasp, crying.

"Please! Don't! Please!" he cried as though Dean was going to hurt him, "I'm sorry! No!"

Dean murmured frantically in his brother's ear, rubbing his back, trying to calm his sibling.

Reid looked up at Emily and Morgan, his eyes meeting Derek's dark brown ones.

SPN

It wasn't Adam, oh God, it wasn't Adam.

Lucifer laughed as the façade fell away and Sam scrambled away from him, knowing what was going to happen now.

"Please," Sam begged, "Don't… please."

The fallen angel stood, looming over the young man.

"I'm sorry," Sam apologized for the millionth time but his words fell on deaf ears.

"No!" he cried out as Lucifer reached down towards hm.

SPN

Reid watched guiltily as Sam writhed in Dean's grasp, crying and screaming as though he was experiencing the worst kind of agony.

"What did you do?" Dean asked, his tone accusatory.

"I… I…" Reid stammered and cringed when Morgan shouted his name.

"I just w-wanted to know," he confessed, "I just wanted to know who hurt him. I'm-"

Dean turned away from the agent abruptly and again attempted to sooth his brother.

"Reid," Emily said quietly.

The agent looked up at his friends, "I'm sorry."

Morgan looked disgusted and began walking away.

"Morgan!" Reid shouted and his friend answered, "You stay there!"

The younger man looked to Emily but she just shook her head and followed Morgan.

SPN

Sam choked, blood steaming down his chin.

"Please," he begged, his voice a gurgle, "No more."

Lucifer grinned at him, "This is your punishment, Sam. I'll never stop."

The young man groaned and closed his eyes, gasping only when the fallen angel grabbed his hair and yanked his head up.

"Don't pass out on me," Lucifer said, "Not yet."

Tears steamed down Sam's face but he couldn't brush them away. Tied to the rack, immobilized, all he could do was scream and beg as the fallen angel flayed him alive.

Sam sucked in a deep breath and spat out blood. He stared down at his feet and legs, red and raw and bleeding. He knew that Lucifer wouldn't let him pass out until he was finished and then Sam would wake up to more torture. Maybe fire or vivisection or something equally as awful.

Sam cried out as skin was cut from his right thigh and writhed in the fresh agony.

SPN

Aaron looked up at the bloodcurdling scream that filled the air.

The Unit Chief looked at Rossi, who had his jacket wrapped around JJ's arm, and then back at the darkness of the basement.

Footsteps sounded and he felt relief at seeing Derek and Emily approach.

"What is that? Did you kill the hag?" Rossi asked and Emily nodded.

"It's Sam," Morgan ground out, "He started having another episode and Reid pressed him. Damn it! I told him to leave it alone!"

Rossi sighed, his expression sad. He turned to JJ, "How are you doing, dear?"

The blonde agent gave a wan smile, "I'll live."

"We should get her outside," Aaron said and Rossi nodded, standing and bringing JJ up with him.

"The rest of you can go," the Unit Chief said, "I'll wait for Reid and the brothers."

Morgan's mouth worked as though he wanted to say that he'd stay as well but Aaron shook his head.

"I think seeing Sam is enough for Reid," Hotchner said, "Don't hold this over his head, Morgan."

The other agent nodded, tightlipped and followed the others up the stairs.

SPN

"Sammy," Dean murmured, sagging when his brother finally began to calm, "Sammy, it's okay."

He brushed his sibling's hair back from his brow and smiled down at him.

"D'n?" Sam muttered, clearly exhausted.

"Yeah, Sammy, it's me," Dean said and helped him sit up.

Sam leaned forward, too tired to even sit straight. He reached up and wiped clumsily at his wet cheeks.

"You okay to get up?" Dean asked and Sam nodded, taking his offered hand and standing.

Dean could feel Sam trembling, whether from exhaustion or fear, he didn't know but only wanted it to stop.

Ignoring the young doctor still seated on the floor, Dean began to walk forward, one arm across his brother's back to help hold him up.

Sam looked over his shoulder.

"Spencer," he called, surprising Dean.

The agent stood and came forward nervously, "Sam, I'm-"

Reid stopped when Sam reached out and grabbed the collar of his vest, pulling him forward.

Sam pulled the doctor towards him until their faces almost touched. Then, very quietly, Sam spoke, his green eyes boring into Reid's brown ones; "Then came and looked him in the face, an angel beautiful and bright; and he knew that it was a fiend."

SPN

Aaron looked up, happy, when Sam- supported by Dean, and Reid stepped out of the paper factory's front door.

The young doctor looked appropriately shamed and Hotchner knew he wouldn't have to say anything to the agent about what he'd done.

Sam was barely keeping his feet and Dean guided him towards a waiting ambulance where a paramedic was wrapping JJ's arm and preparing her for a trip to the hospital.

"Is he injured?" the Unit Chief heard the paramedic ask Dean and the hunter nodded, "No, just exhausted. He needs a moment to rest."

The paramedic nodded and continued working on the blonde agent.

Police Chief Gabraldo and his officers had left the scene once Aaron told Leon that they had been forced to kill the unsub because she had attacked one of his agents.

The police chief had asked who it was and Aaron had lied, telling him the unsub was a mentally unstable woman who should have been receiving help in an institution but instead had been squatting in the old paper factory.

Gabraldo seemed to accept that explanation and headed back to the station, his city once again safe.

Dean approached Hotchner now and shook the agent's hand.

"Thanks for your help," Dean said but Aaron shook his head, "Thank you. Without you and Sam we would have walked right into something we had no way of handling."

Dean nodded and glanced over his shoulder at his brother still sitting on the edge of the ambulance.

"About Dr. Reid," Dean said, "I don't blame him for wanting to know what happened to Sam-"

Aaron held up his hand, "Whatever happened to you brother isn't our business."

Dean nodded, "I know but… Not many people know what happened to him and… they should."

Aaron looked at the hunter curiously.

Dean's hazel eyes met his, "Sam saved the world and to do so he sacrificed himself. He didn't have to but that's just the type of person he is. He'd run into a burning building to save some elderly lady without even thinking about himself. He damned himself so that everyone could live."

Dean sighed, "Maybe I'll tell you the whole story sometime. Just today, I need to take a long nap."

With that, the hunter turned and returned to his brother's side. Aaron shook his head and prepared his team members to follow the ambulance to the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from a Megadeth song.  
> Sam's quote about the angel and the fiend comes from the poem 'Love', by Samuel Taylor Coleridge.


	12. Devour

Aaron nodded as the doctor told him the diagnosis on JJ. The female agent's arm had been slashed badly and had required stitches but she would be able to leave in a couple of hours after some rest.

"Thank you so much," the Unit chief thanked the physician and shook her hand.

"She shouldn't try do anything too strenuous with that arm until those stitches have come out," the doctor warned Hotchner and the agent nodded. JJ had wanted to spend some time with Will and Henry and Aaron decided a week or so off from work would be good for her.

Again, Aaron thanked the doctor then walked down the hallway to where the rest of his team were waiting.

"JJ's going to be fine," he assured the worried-looking agents, "She'll be able to leave in a few hours. Her doctor just wants her to rest and JJ's being given blood right now."

"Guess we should be thinking of what we're going to tell Strauss once we get back," Rossi commented and Prentiss nodded, "I wish we could tell the truth."

Aaron frowned, "We know what's really out there. I don't think we'll be able to convince anyone else unless they see it for themselves."

"We'll think of something," Rossi told Prentiss, "If the Winchesters can do it, so can we."

"We should get back to the hotel and start packing," Aaron announced, "So we'll be ready to go once JJ gets out."

No one moved though, they all wanted to remain with their injured friend. Aaron saw that and took a seat beside Reid, who had been very quiet since leaving the abandoned paper factory.

"Are you alright?" Aaron asked, "Dean doesn't blame you for what happened, if that's what you're worried about… really, it was probably only a matter of time before Sam-"

The young doctor shook his head though, "No, its something that Sam said to me."

"Reid-" Morgan began, his tone telling the agent he was about to demand the doctor drop the topic and leave it alone.

Aaron however encouraged Reid to continue, thinking about what Dean had told him just before leaving the scene of their battle.

"I was asking Sam what happened to him," Reid said quietly, thinking intently as he spoke, "He said he was in a cage… I don't know exactly what that means…"

"A real cage?" Prentiss asked and Reid shrugged, "It seemed like that."

"Both him and Adam- Sam and Dean's younger brother- were there but… so was someone else," Reid continued, "I asked Sam why he was in the cage and he said he was being punished-"

This time Morgan broke in, "For what?"

"I don't know… oh! He said 'didn't let him win' but I don't know what that means," Reid explained, "But that's clearly why Sam thinks he and Adam were in this cage."

"What else did Sam say?" Morgan asked, sounding impatient.

"I tried to get him to tell me who else was in the cage but before I could…" Reid stopped, his expression guilty, "I shouldn't have pushed him, not when it was clear that the memories caused him so much trauma."

Emily put a hand on Reid's shoulder, "What did he say, Reid?"

"It was after… when Sam was better…" Reid told them, looking at each of his team members in turn, "He quoted Coleridge."

Aaron and the others stared at the doctor, waiting for him to speak.

Reid repeated the bit of poetry Sam had told him and looked up at his fellow agents.

"Why would he pick that poem?" he asked, thinking aloud, "It's a romantic tale."

"Instead of focusing on the entire poem," Rossi suggested, stunned that Reid seemed too shaken to think clearly- the doctor would have normally latched onto that one short verse and analyzed the heck out of it to find its meaning- "Why don't you think on the part Sam told you? It clearly means something to him."

The young doctor nodded, eyebrows furrowed, fingers against his chin as he started thinking.

Morgan chuckled, "That should keep him busy for a while."

SPN

Chief Leon Gabraldo tapped his fingers against his desk as he watched two of the federal agents gather up everything from the conference room to take back to Quantico with them. They had arrived ten minutes earlier, thanked the man for his cooperation and set to work. He really just wanted them to leave town so he wouldn't have any distractions while he went to get the Winchesters. Gabraldo had it all planned out. The Leviathan knew the Winchesters' greatest weakness. If the younger brother were threatened, the older one wouldn't fight. Dean would suddenly become as meek as a lamb and that was what the Leviathan was counting on.

SPN

Sam was exhausted, that much was clear. He slumped in the passenger's seat of the Ford, eyes half-closed as Dean pulled into the parking spot in front of their motel room. He had wanted to get the hell out of dodge as soon as the monster was taken care of but seeing Sam nearly dead on his feet changed Dean's mind.

He'd let Sam sleep for a couple of hours in the motel room before heading out. It wasn't exactly as though they had somewhere to be, anyway.

Dean got out of the car and stretched, groaning. Sam exited the vehicle as well and shuffled forward tiredly, raising his fist to stifle a yawn.

Dean smiled; his brother might not even need pills to help him into Dream Land.

Dean unlocked the door and stood back to allow his brother in first.

"Thanks," Sam muttered and made it as far as his brother's bed before collapsing onto the mattress.

Dean closed the door, smirking, but decided to leave Sam where he was. Seconds later he heard his sibling snoring lightly and breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that Sam was resting.

As well as hallucinating Lucifer, which kept Sam awake most of the time, the episodes where he really remembered the Cage- where he thought he was back there- drained the young man physically and emotionally.

Sleep was the best medicine for Sam whenever he had an episode, a commodity which was becoming harder and harder to come by. Dean just hoped that the sleeping pills he'd picked up would continue to work for his brother.

Dean, tired as well now that the adrenaline had left his system, sat on the edge of Sam's bed and turned on the television, keeping the volume low and watched a series of infomercials until his eyelids grew heavy and he answered the beckon of sleep.

SPN

"I'm fine," JJ assured her team members, "Really, its just a scratch."

Rossi insisted on rolling the blonde agent out to the front doors of the hospital in a wheelchair, however, her arm made bulky with gauze bandages.

"Doctor's orders," Rossi told her and JJ sighed.

Emily and Aaron were not among the group escorting their friend out of the hospital. They had gone back to the station to collect the map, photos, and other assorted papers from the conference room to return with them to Quantico.

JJ looked over at Reid, "Why so quiet?"

"Shhh," Rossi shushed her playfully, "He's thinking."

The female agent raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything else.

She smiled though, when she caught sight of Derek standing beside one of their black SUVs.

"Ready to go home?" He asked, opening the door for her.

"More than ever," JJ said truthfully and climbed into the passenger's seat.

SPN

Aaron and Prentiss met the rest of the team at the hotel.

All that was left to do was gather up their personal belongings.

Emily ran forwards and hugged her friend as soon as JJ stepped out of the car.

"How are you feeling?" she asked the blonde agent.

"Guys, I'm fine," JJ insisted, "Really, my arm doesn't even hurt."

Emily didn't look as though she believed her.

"I'll just be happy to get back to the BAU," JJ sighed.

Rossi coughed and pointed to Hotchner.

"What?" JJ asked, "What did you do, Aaron?"

"You are going to take a vacation," the Unit Chief said, "And rest that arm."

JJ, her eyes wide, shook her head, "I can't! You need me!"

"We'll be fine for a week," Aaron assured her, "As soon as we return to Virginia I'm telling Strauss you need a leave."

"But I'm fine!" JJ exclaimed, raising her injured arm, "See?"

"If I could play Devil's Advocate for a moment," Rossi broke in, "You know you've been missing Henry and Will. Now you have an entire week to be with them."

JJ opened her mouth to protest when suddenly Reid interrupted, "That's it! Why didn't I see it before?"

Every member of the team turned to him.

"What's it? What are you talking about, Spence?" JJ asked, confused.

"The angel beautiful and bright? The fiend? It's the Devil!" Reid announced, now all the team looked perplexed.

"Kid-" Morgan began but Reid was now on a roll and didn't stop.

"In Christian mythology," he started, "Lucifer was an angel… the most beautiful angel… until he disobeyed God and was plunged into Hell…"

"Uhhh…." Morgan said, stunned.

"What does this have to do with Sam?" Rossi asked.

"Sam and Dean fight monsters," Reid said, "Monsters that should not exist."

Emily nodded, "So, if monsters exist, why can't angels? Right?"

"Exactly!" Reid announced happily.

He saw that Morgan was frowning but ignored it.

"I think… somehow… Sam and Adam ended up in Hell," Reid explained, "I think that the other person with them in this cage was Lucifer."

Emily's mouth opened in shock. Instead of answering questions, Reid's theory brought up more.

Morgan suddenly broke away from the group and stormed towards the hotel, clearly upset.

Reid seemed to deflate. He glanced at Hotchner.

"Oh no," he muttered guiltily.

"Let's just pack and get to the airport," the Unit Chief said, "We can talk about this later."

Emily saw Reid nod and follow the others into the hotel. She knew what her young friend was thinking. He should not have said the things he said, about angels being real, because of what had happened to Derek when he'd been younger, when he'd prayed to God for it to stop and been ignored by a being who was supposed to be benevolent and kind.

"It doesn't have anything to do with you," Emily told Spencer, "We don't know everything. We can't, we're only human."

The doctor nodded but was clearly still felt guilty.

SPN

Dean looked up, groggy with sleep, when he heard a rumbling sound as a police cruiser jerked to a halt in front of the motel room.

What the hell? Dean thought moments before the motel room door slammed open so hard that the handle buried into the plaster of the wall opposite.

Chief Gabraldo stood in the threshold, grinning widely.

"What do you want?" Dean asked, scrambling up and backing away instinctively.

"You," the police chief answered and lunged forward with lightning speed.

Dean dodged to the side to avoid a collision with the man but Sam wasn't so lucky. Dean's brother was only just waking up, sitting up on his elbows on the bed closest to the door- and the policeman. The police chief grabbed one of the young man's arms, pulling Sam roughly to his feet before wrapping an arm around the hunter's throat. Gabraldo was only a couple of inches shorter than Sam so the pressure on his throat was increased by the other man's shorter stature; Dean could see his brother was struggling to breathe.

Dean held his hands up to show he was unarmed.

"Okay, okay," he said, not taking his eyes off his sibling, "Just relax, all right? Can we talk about this? What did we do?"

The man- if it even was a man because damn, he had moved fast- chuckled, "My boss wants to have a word with you two."

Sam struggled in Gabraldo's hold, his face slowly turning red, and the police chief only tightened his grip, causing the young man to choke.

"Hey, hey!" Dean exclaimed, "Who's your boss? What did we do?"

A feeling of deep unease crept up Dean's spine as he flicked his gaze up to take in the Chief's grin. Something about it wasn't quite right; it was too wide… too toothy.

"Dick Roman," Gabraldo answered, "You're long overdue for an appointment with him."

Dean swallowed, his mouth dry. Hadn't the Leviathans been ordered to kill and uh, eat him and Sam on sight? Why then were they not dead right now?

Almost as though the monster knew what he was thinking, Gabraldo answered Dean, "You two have been meddling too much. Mr. Roman wants to deal with you personally. I'm going to bring you to him."

Shit, shit, shit! This can't be happening!

"Okay," Dean said, "Just… go easy there Kojak."

"Put your weapons on the floor," Gabraldo ordered, "All of them. Now!"

Dean shoved his hands into his pockets and reluctantly dropped the angel blade, gun, and Ruby's knife had had hidden in his jacket.

"Is that all of them?" Gabraldo asked, "If you're lying to me…"

The Leviathan opened its mouth wide and Sam cringed away from the maw as much as he could.

"Okay!" Dean shouted, terrified that the creature would bite his brother's head off despite what Dick Roman's new orders.

Dean's lock pick kit and cell phone landed on the floor. He turned out his jacket and pant pockets to show there was nothing more.

Gabraldo smiled, "Good boy. Now, empty your brother's pockets."

Dean stepped forwards cautiously and removed everything from Sam's pockets. Dean could feel his brother trembling and could only imagine how scared he must be.

"It'll be okay, Sammy," Dean murmured as he dropped a handful of change onto the carpet and was about to back up before Gabraldo stopped him.

The Leviathan unclipped a pair of handcuffs from his belt and held one of the silver bracelets out to Dean with is free hand, "Give me your wrist."

Dean hesitated; if his hands were bound he wouldn't be able to fight the Leviathan.

"Do it!" Gabraldo demanded and squeezed Sam's neck, making the young man choke again.

Dean shoved his right hand at the monster, his heart sinking as he felt the cold steel against his wrist.

"Turn around," the Leviathan ordered and Dean did so, allowing the monster to cuff his left hand.

Dean stepped away from Gabraldo and turned to face the monster and its hostage.

"Let him go," Dean begged, "Please. He's not going to fight."

Gabraldo smiled condescendingly, "I'd like to believe you. Really, I would. But I can't take that chance."

Dean watched in horror as the Leviathan once again opened its mouth wide, a snakelike tongue lolling out and shark's teeth pressing through the pink gums and replacing the human ones.

"Sam!" Dean cried and began moving forward, not sure what he was going to do- maybe head-butt the monster- but he was too slow and Gabraldo bit down hard on his brother's right shoulder.

Sam's cry of pain caused Dean to stagger to a stop. He stared as blood gushed out from between the teeth buried in his brother's flesh and prayed that the Leviathan didn't take a chunk of his sibling's shoulder with it.

Gabraldo's teeth came away from Sam's shoulder with a tearing-sucking sound and he released the young man, shoving him towards Dean.

Sam stumbled, landing on his knees, stunned. He reached up with a shaking left hand and clutched at his shoulder, his right arm hanging uselessly at his side.

"Sammy," Dean said, wishing his hands were free so he could comfort his brother better, "Sammy!"

The younger sibling looked up, his face pale and his eyes sunken.

"Sam-" Dean began but the Leviathan grabbed his brother's good shoulder and heaved him into a standing position.

"Move," Gabraldo ordered, talking to Dean through a mouth stained red with his brother's blood.

Dean didn't have to be asked twice; he feared any hesitation on his part would result in Sam getting hurt again.

He walked out into the parking lot and towards the cruiser. Gabraldo, still holding Sam's shoulder, opened the back door of the vehicle and told Dean to get in.

Once again the older brother only did as he was told to keep his younger sibling safe. He started when Gabraldo slammed the door shut behind him; he had thought the monster would put both him and Sam in the backseat.

Instead, the Leviathan guided Sam around to the front passenger's seat, opened the door and pushed the injured young man inside.

Dean leaned forward, his brow pressed against the mesh separating the front of the car from the back and murmured to his brother.

"It'll be okay, Sammy. It's going to be okay."

SPN

Morgan and the rest of the team were ready to head back to Quantico. He was pissed at… well, he didn't really know who he was angry at. Not Reid, who'd only been trying to figure out Sam's cryptic message and not the hunter himself but… someone. Hearing that God and His angels might very well be real… Derek didn't know what to think. He had prayed for help, for someone to put a stop to the abuse he was suffering at the hands of a person he should have been able to trust and when the end did not come, Morgan realized that it was all a big joke. God and angels did not exist. If they did, why did they let bad thing happen to good people? Why did would they allow a young boy be molested? Morgan decided that God and angels were all fake, that there was no Heaven, no Hell, no nothing. Just a shitty world with shitty people who didn't care about one another, who were only looking out for themselves.

"Morgan?" Reid called in a small voice, "Are you okay?"

The agent looked at his friend and forced himself to smile, "Yeah… I was just thinking."

The doctor nodded and offered his friend a rather queasy smile back.

Sighing, Morgan returned to what he was doing, driving thoughts of the past away so he could focus.

The sound of a car speeding down the road caused the dark-skinned agent to look up from his task of shoving his and Reid's luggage into the back of one of the SUVs.

"Isn't that Chief Gabraldo?" JJ asked as the police cruiser barreled past them.

"That looked like Dean!" Emily exclaimed, "But why is he in the cruiser?"

Morgan looked at Rossi, who frowned.

"The station isn't in that direction," the older agent said thoughtfully.

Something isn't right, Morgan thought and turned to Aaron.

"I think something's wrong," he told his Unit Chief and Hotchner nodded.

From the faces of the rest of the team, Derek saw that they all felt the same way. All thoughts about God and angels were swept from Morgan's min when the Unit Chief spoke next.

"C'mon," Aaron said and the agents climbed into the two SUVs and pulled out of the parking lot, the vehicles driving over the boulevard in their haste.

SPN

Dean desperately tried to get free of the handcuffs. He tugged and twisted his wrists but to no avail, the cuffs were far too tight.

The cruiser was barreling down the road causing other cars to swerve to get out of its way.

Dean had to hand it to the Leviathan; the monster had picked the right vehicle in which to transport him and Sam. No one was going to try and stop a police cruiser. The civilians they passed probably thought they were on the way to some sort of emergency.

Dean meanwhile was trying to make sure Sam remained conscious. Leaning forward he repeated his brother's name incessantly, terrified that Sam would go into shock or bleed to death right in front of him.

Sam sat slumped low in the passenger's seat, the fingers of his left hand smeared red as he clutched his shoulder.

"C'mon Sammy," Dean begged, "Stay with me. Sam… Sammy, you hear me? Stay awake!"

Dean groaned when the cruiser drove over a pothole and the back of the vehicle bucked, slamming the top of his head against the roof of the car and his neck cramped.

He heard the Leviathan swear and Dean looked over his shoulder, his heart leaping at the sight of two large black SUVs closing in behind the cruiser, their lights flashing.

Dean slammed into the mesh between the seats when the monster pressed the gas pedal down to the floor, the getaway it had planned for now turning into a chase. Dean cried his brother's name when he saw Sam pitch forward and hit the cruiser's dashboard- none of them wearing seatbelts- with a sickening crack. Sam pushed himself tiredly against the seat and sucked in a breath through his mouth, blood spattering the dash and windshield as he did so.

SPN

Morgan accelerated as much as he dared, his eyes glued to the police cruiser ahead.

"Can't you go faster?!" JJ lamented from the seat beside his.

He could, but he didn't want to risk causing an accident and hurting the Winchesters. He had seen Dean thrown forward in his seat when the driver of the cruiser had pushed the vehicle to go faster and realized that he- and possibly Sam- wasn't wearing a seatbelt.

"Just trust me, JJ!" Morgan growled.

Reid sat on the edge of his seat, his head in between the two front seats.

In the second car, Aaron was driving with Prentiss and Rossi with him.

No one knew what was happening with Gabraldo and the Winchesters but they knew that whatever it was, it had to stop. Now.

"Look!" JJ pointed with her uninjured hand, "They'll have to stop for the intersection."

Although the cruiser was roaring down the road, its lights and sirens were not activated; drivers wouldn't know to let it pass through the intersection.

Morgan said nothing; the way Gabraldo was driving, the agent had a horrible feeling the cop was going to try and fly right through the intersection.

SPN

Dean saw the intersection as they approached it and knew the Leviathan had no intentions of stopping.

Still though, he shouted at the monster hoarsely.

"Stop! Stop! Sto-"

A blue minivan that had been making a right-hand turn smashed into the front of the cruiser. The hood of the police car was crumpled upwards and the cruiser pushed backwards, sparks flying from between the two vehicles.

Dean didn't see any of this. His head hit the mesh between the front and back seat and he blacked out.

SPN

Morgan slammed on the brakes and the SUV ground to a halt. A green Cadillac swerved in front of him- blocking his path- and the agent punched the horn, "Get the fuck out of the way!"

All cars in the intersection had stopped; the civilians not involved in the accident staring wide-mouthed at the two ruined vehicles.

The agent climbed from the SUV and started running towards the cruiser.

SPN

Dean groaned, blinking blood from his eyes and sat up. Squinting through the mesh he saw something that made his heart stop. The front seat was empty. Both Sam and the Leviathan were gone. The windshield was nonexistent- it had shattered in the collision- and there was blood on the shards of glass that clung to its edges.

"SAM!" Dean shouted and kicked at the back door, cursing the lack of door handles in the cruiser, "SAMMY!"

He paused when he saw Derek Morgan's worried face appear in the side window and he shouted at him, "Get Sam! Get me out of here! Get Sam!"

The agent pulled the door open and grabbed Dean's arm, tugging him out of the car.

"What happened?" Morgan asked but Dean ignored him, "SAM! SAMMY!"

Suddenly Dean turned to the agents, "Get me out of these! Get me out now!"

Morgan gripped Dean's shoulder and quickly unlocked the cuffs- they were all the same and the agents keys worked on the Police Chief's- before turning him around, "You need to go back."

"No!" Dean shouted in Morgan's face, "Sam's hurt!"

"You're hurt!" the agent shouted back and tried to push Dean towards the black SUVs but the hunter twisted from his grip and ran forward, calling his brother's name.

He heard footsteps running after him and knew that Morgan was following. His heart clenched in his chest when he caught sight of a dark red smear on the asphalt leading towards the edge of the road.

"Sammy!" Dean called and heard Morgan repeat the name.

SPN

Aaron watched as Morgan bolted instantly towards the police cruiser, helping the older Winchester brother out, and turned his attention to calling an ambulance.

The driver of the blue minivan- a middle-aged woman- appeared shaken but unharmed.

"It just came out of nowhere," she was saying to JJ, "I didn't have time to even think let alone stop… oh, oh no…"

Aaron saw Morgan and Dean running towards the edge of the road where a drainage ditch was and the agent's eyes widened in shock when he saw the figure rise out of the grasses just in front of them.

SPN

Chief Gabraldo strolled forward, unbothered by his injuries. His face had been sliced to ribbons when he'd smashed through the windshield and his neck sat at an almost ninety-degree angle. Black blood- Leviathan blood- oozed from the quickly healing wounds

"Shoot him!" Dean yelled at Morgan who appeared to be frozen, "Shoot him! Shoot him, Morgan! Now!"

The monster opened its mouth wide, snake's tongue flipped over shark-like teeth, suddenly staggering back, blood gushing from three bullet holes in its soft palate.

"The hell is that?" Morgan asked but Dean didn't answer, he was backing away.

Morgan shot at the creature again and this time the Leviathan screamed in pain.

Dean grabbed the back of Morgan's shirt, dragging him along with him.

He still needed to get to his brother but not with the monster in the way.

Gabraldo lunged forwards and Morgan shot him in the chest.

"I really didn't want to have to kill you," the Leviathan said, "All I wanted was the Winchesters."

"Somebody shoot him!" Dean shouted and Gabraldo's eye burst in a shower of black ichor as Prentiss obliged the hunter.

"But now you've ruined my plan," the monster continued, "And I cannot go back to Roman empty-handed."

The Leviathan lunged forwards once again to attack; its progress was stopped when a transport truck- driven by an irate trucker on a tight schedule- slipped through the intersection and barreled onward, splattering black blood across the pavement.

Dean and Morgan remained where they were for a long moment, stunned.

Then, the elder Winchester shook his head and ran forward, calling his brother's name.

W

"Sammy! Sam!" Dean called and spotted his brother. Sam was lying in the mud at the bottom of the drainage ditch, his blood mixing with the sluggish water and staining it red. His face was smeared with dirt and blood, very pale, his eyes closed.

Dean jumped down into the ditch beside his brother and pressed his fingers to Sam's neck, praying he would find a pulse.

Morgan remained on the side of the road, watching.

Dean sagged with relief when he felt Sam's heart beating.

"An ambulance just pulled up!" Morgan called to Dean and nodded, turning his attention back to his brother.

He reached out and brushed Sam's bangs away from his brow.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean whispered, "I'm here."

SPN

"How is he, Dean?" Emily asked as the hunter made his way into the waiting room where the agents were. They had refused to go back to Quantico until they had news about Sam's condition.

Dean smiled wearily at the agents and sank into a chair.

"His shoulder was the worst," Dean told them and wiped a hand down his face, "The doctor said he'll have to go to physical therapy and even then he might not regain all the movement his arm."

The dark-haired female agent approached Dean and sat down beside him, putting a hand on his arm.

"He's also got some broken ribs and cuts from getting pulled out the broken window," Dean continued, "His nose is busted too and he had a concussion…"

Dean sighed sadly. Of all Sam's injuries it was the blow to his head that worried Dean the most. With Sam's already fragile grip on reality, the last thing his brother needed was a brain injury messing with his already scrambled head.

Suddenly Dean looked up, "Do you… do you guys want to see him?"

The agents looked at one another and nodded. Dean smiled and led the team down the hallway back to Sam's room.

He closed the door behind everyone so no nosy nurses would see how many visitors Sam was having at once.

Sam's eyes were closed and he appeared to be sleeping peacefully. Dean moved to his brother's side and smoothed Sam's bangs.

"Hey Sammy," Dean murmured, "Everyone's here to see you. The whole team."

Sam remained fast asleep.

"Dean," Agent Hotchner, "I know this probably isn't the best time but… what was that thing?"

"They are called Leviathans," he answered, knowing exactly what the agent meant, "They're pretty much indestructible except cutting off the head seems to slow them down."

There was a pause before Dean added, "Or getting creamed by an eighteen-wheeler."

Reid stepped forward, gazing sadly at the younger Winchester.

"I think I know what happened to your brother," the young doctor said and Dean saw Morgan move forwards to grab him.

"What do you think happened to Sam?" Dean asked.

Reid glanced down, nervous now.

"I didn't know… at first… what he'd said… about him being in a cage and being punished. I asked him if there were others with him and Adam and that was when… well, you know…" Reid stopped when he saw Dean's eyes pinch slightly but then the hunter nodded, "I couldn't figure out what all that was but then, when he quoted Coleridge…"

Reid must have seen the bewildered look on Dean's face so he recited the bit of poetry Sam had told him and to his surprise the older brother smiled.

"That'd just be something Sam would do," he said, "Giving you the answer without giving it away."

"I think that Sam and Adam were in Hell," Reid cut to the chase and blurted.

Dean was impressed, "Give the doctor a cigar."

Reid's eyes widened, "That's it? That's what really happened?"

"Yup," Dean answered casually and peered down at his sleeping brother, "Unfortunately."

"Hell is real?" Prentiss asked, "Like… fire and brimstone."

Dean smiled but the expression held no warmth, "There's fire."

"What happened?" JJ asked, "To your brothers?"

Dean looked at Hotchner as he spoke, telling the agents about angels and demons and the Apocalypse, about Lucifer being sprung from his Cage- though not implicating Sam for that- and their struggle to find a way to stop him, collecting the rings from the Four Horsemen and Sam and Adam falling into that hole in Stull Cemetery.

Dean blinked tears away at the memory of that horrible day.

"But Sam's out," Reid said and Dean nodded, "And Adam's..."

"Adam is still there," Dean finished quietly.

Prentiss put her hand over her mouth.

"Sam was in the Cage for eighteen months," Dean said, "But in Hell, time moves slower, and by them time he was rescued he'd been down there for nearly two hundred years."

The agents all started at the hunter, not knowing what to say.

Dean however, cleared his throat, "Don't you all have a plane to catch?"

The agents looked as though they were waking up from a trance and Aaron nodded, "Strauss will be waiting for us."

Instead of simply filing out of the room as Dean had assumed the FBI agents would do, the approached him. JJ hugged him tightly, Morgan, Reid, Rossi and Hotch all shaking his hand. Prentiss stepped forward and kissed Dean on the cheek.

"You take care of Sam," she said, "Maybe we'll see you tow again some time."

Dean nodded and watched as the team made their way down the hallway.

Turning and closing the door, he laughed, despite the circumstances, "I think I just found Mrs. Dean Winchester, Sammy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from a Shinedown song.


	13. You Ain't Seen Nothing Yet

Penelope Garcia was late.

She should have arrived twenty minutes ago.

But she had been stuck in traffic and the elevator in Reid's apartment building was broken so now she was forced to walk up a half-dozen flights of stairs.

The Technical Analyst huffed and puffed, face flushed with exertion and pushed her neon orange-rimmed glasses up her sweaty nose. Her hair, which had been neatly combed and adorned with orange and red plastic flowers, was now stringy and frizzy.

At least she was just seeing her friends- her family- from the BAU and not anyone important.

Penelope cringed at the thought of showing up like she was at the office of the Director of the FBI. She'd die of embarrassment!

Finally she stepped onto the final landing and sighed, smoothing her dress- orange with red polka dots- and checked on the Tupperware container of cookies she was bringing. They seemed to have survived the journey all right. Clearing her throat a little, Garcia walked down the hallway in her red high-heeled shoes towards Reid's apartment.

Three weeks had passed since her team members had returned from Miller's Falls, Pennsylvania. Garcia had been elated to see all her friends again- she had been so worried for them- but instantly worried and upset that JJ had been hurt. Even though the agent had claimed that the injury wasn't as bad as it looked- that it could have been a lot worse- Garcia had insisted on mothering her.

Penelope smiled when she recalled JJ's face the day she had shown up on her doorstep with a pot of soup for her and her family.

JJ had been gracious but it was clear she didn't want to be babied- Will was probably already doing that- and only wanted to get back in the field as soon as possible.

Although the team had been back for nearly a month- and JJ had started working again two weeks ago- Reid had wanted to invite everyone over for a belated celebration: the unsub- monster- had been stopped and untold lives saved.

Garcia knocked on the door to Spencer's apartment and waited for a moment. She could hear music playing and the sounds of conversation coming from inside and she smiled.

No matter what happened, her team was able to forget about the bad parts of their job and allow themselves to be happy for a little while at least, until the next case came in.

"Baby Girl!" Morgan exclaimed, grinning as he opened the door, "We were wondering if you were brushing us off."

Garcia raised on pale eyebrow, feigning insult.

"I could never brush off a chance to be with my Chocolate Adonis," Penelope assured him and Derek laughed out loud.

"C'mon in," the agent said, "We've all been waiting."

For what? Garcia had been about to ask when she stepped into the apartment and saw her team members- Aaron and Emily, JJ and Reid and Rossi- and two men who were definitely not a part of the BAU.

Garcia knew instantly who they were though. How could she not? She had read their files and seen their faces caught on camera as they terrorized innocent people wanting nothing more then to do their banking or have a meal at a diner.

The Winchesters were here!

In Reid's apartment!

Talking to her team as though they were old friends!

Garcia's eyes widened in shock and horror and she tried to back out the door.

Morgan though, seeing her reaction grabbed her elbow and pulled her forward.

"Hey, hey," he murmured, "It's okay, Baby Girl. They're friendly, remember?"

Garcia shook her head; despite her team members' assurances that the Winchesters were good men, she couldn't stop her heart from jackhammering at the sight of them.

"Penelope!" JJ exclaimed and came forward, "You made it!"

Morgan closed the door behind Garcia but didn't let go of her arm, "Calm down. Just go and meet them, really, you'll understand."

Garcia turned to Morgan, staring at him as though he had lost his mind.

"Hello," a voice said from very close by and Garcia looked up at who was speaking to her.

The young man- Sam Winchester- was standing in front of her. Towering over her was more like it, because Garcia had to tilt her head up just to look at his face.

The man gave a self-conscious smile and held his left hand out- his right arm was held in a sling- for her to shake.

Garcia's mouth opened in shock.

"Hi," she squeaked in response.

Now that she was looking at him- really looking at him- not at a grainy, black-and-white footage from the bank's CCTV or the blurred video camera on a cell phone, Garcia saw that Sam Winchester did not have the face of a cold-blooded killer.

The thing that struck her the most was his eyes. They were a bright, mossy green and gentle.

Garcia recalled a saying that the eyes were the windows to the soul and if that was true then she knew that Sam Winchester was no murderer. His eyes held compassion and a strange haunted look but no evil. He had the look of someone who would be saddened by the sight of a road-killed animal on the side of the highway.

Slowly, the Technical Analyst raised her hand and shook Sam's.

"If you don't close your mouth you're gonna catch flies," another new voice joked and Garcia turned to see Dean Winchester standing beside Morgan.

Penelope felt her face grow red with embarrassment and she dropped Sam Winchester's hand.

"You're Dean," she said.

The elder Winchester smiled, "The one and only."

Garcia just didn't know what to say.

"I… I… just…" she stammered, "Thank you… both of you…"

Sam's face scrunched up, "We were just doing our job."

Garcia shook her head, "Reid told me what you did for him when Cunningham abducted him."

Sam ducked his head, clearly unused to such praise.

"I guess monsters really do exist," the Technical Analyst said quietly, "And you really fight them."

Sam nodded, "Yeah."

Before Garcia knew what she was doing she was stepping towards Sam and wrapping her arms around him in a hug. Tears stung her eyes and she sniffed. She felt so guilty for thinking that these men were vicious killers. She felt guilty for doubting her team when they'd told her over and over again that Sam and Dean were good people.

"Can you forgive me for thinking the worst of you?" Garcia asked, stepping back and carefully wiping her eyes.

Sam nodded, looking like he didn't quite know how to respond to the Technical Analyst.

Prentiss smiled wryly from where she stood beside Dean, "That was something I thought I'd never see."

Dean looked over at her and grinned charmingly, "Sweetheart, you ain't seen nothing yet."

Since there is nothing so well worth having as friends, never lose a chance to make them

-Francesco Guicciardini

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from a Bachman-Turner Overdrive song.

**Author's Note:**

> Fanfic title comes from a collection written by Dean Koontz.  
> Chapter title comes from a Creedence Clearwater Revival song.


End file.
